Humanist Sermons

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HUMANIST SERMONS

Humanist Sernjpns

Edited by
CURTIS W. REESE

Sermon/ by

JOHN HAYNES HOLMES
CHARLES H. LYTTLE

CURTIS W. REESE

E. STANTON HODGIN

E. BURDETTE BACKUS

A. WAKEFIELD SLATEN

JOHN H. DIETRICH

EARL F. COOK

EUGENE MILNE COSGROVE

L. M. BIRKHEAD

E. CALDECOTT

SIDNEY S. ROBINS

FREDERICK M. ELIOT

JAMES H. HART
FRANK S. C. WICKS

FRANK C. DOAN

ARTHUR L. WEATHERLY

A. EUSTACE HAYDON

CHICAGO : LONDON

Clje <Zpen Court ^wblfstyfng Company

1927

COPYRIGHT, 1927, BY

THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING CO.

CHICAGO

the liberal churches of America
there is a religious movement which has come to be
known as Humanism. The ideology of this movement I
attempted to sketch in "Humanism/ 5 issued last year.
The present volume is a collection of sermons which
have been used in the regular course of parish preach-
ing. Each minister was asked to make his own selection.
Consequently, the wide range and supplementary char-
acter of the subjects are purely accidental.

It is not my function to analyze or evaluate the ser-
mons. Each minister has spoken his own mind in his
own way, and is alone responsible for his utterance.

My aim is to introduce the Humanist point of view
in a way that will assist in the proper interpretation of
the sermons that follow.

Humanism has been used to designate certain thought
movements which in varying degrees have centered at-
tention on the study, the worth, and the enhancement of
human life.

Sophist Humanism, in the fifth century B.C., turned
attention from cosmological speculation to the study of
man. Renaissance Humanism, beginning in the four-
teenth century, flooded the dark ages with the light of
classical learning, thus assisting mightily in transform-
ing the medieval into the modern world. Encyclopedic
Humanism, in the second half of the eighteenth cen-
tury, fought error, fostered enlightenment, and magni-
fied human desires and aspirations. In current history,

VI

Preface

philosophical Humanism puts human nature at the cen-
ter of the knowledge process and defines values in terms
of the relation of things to human living; scientific Hu-
manism investigates cosmic behavior with view to using
and controlling it for human ends; educational Hu-
manism relates the power of knowledge to the needs of
life; and religious Humanism grounds spirituality in
human living, thus contrasting sharply with super-
human, supernatural, and absolutistic value-schemes.

Throughout its history Humanism has centered at-
tention on the study, the worth, and the enhancement of
human life.

NEGATIVELY STATED:

( 1 ) Humanism is not Materialism. Materialism is
the doctrine that "the happenings of nature are to be
explained in terms of the locomotion of material/' It
is properly contrasted with Animism. It is mechanistic,
not spiritistic. It belongs to the pre-electron period.
While the mechanistic hypothesis of Materialism has
served a useful purpose in scientific experimentation,
it is now regarded by competent physicists as an inade-
quate hypothesis; and in the realm of psychology and
sociology Materialism breaks down utterly. Humanism
holds the organic, not the mechanistic or materialistic
view of life.

(2) Humanism is not Positivism. Positivism as a re-
ligion is an artificial system which substitutes the "wor-
ship of Humanity" (past, present, and future) for the
"worship of God," "the immortality of influence" for
the "immortality of the soul," etc.

Humanism, on the other hand, holds that the "Hu-
manity" of Positivism is an abstraction having no con-
crete counterpart in objective reality, and that most "in-

Preface

vu

fluence" far from being immortal is highly transitory.
To Humanism "worship" means the reverential atti-
tude towards all that is wonderful in persons and
throughout all of life; a wistful, hopeful, expectant at-
titude of mind; not abject homage to either "Humani-
ty" or "God."

As to immortality, the Humanist shifts the emphasis
from longevity to quality. But Humanism encourages
research in the realm of the spirit. In his "Studies in
Humanism" Schiller devotes a chapter to the most sym-
pathetic yet critical discussion of "Psychic Research."

(3) Humanism is not Rationalism. Historically, the
rationalist belongs in the group with the intellectualist,
idealist, absolutist, not with the realist, pragmatist, be-
haviorist, humanist. "Reason" is Rationalism's God,
just as "Humanity" is Positivism's God. Humanism
finds neither absolute "Reason" nor "reason" as a facul-
ty of the mind. But it finds intelligence as a function of
organisms in various stages of development. To Hu-
manism, dependence on the "Reason" is as fallacious as
dependence on the "Bible" or the "Pope." Humanism's
dependence is on intelligence enriched by the experience
of the years; but it knows that intelligence is not an
infallible source of either knowledge or wise conduct.
Rationalism is dogmatic; Humanism is experimental.

(4) Humanism is not Atheism. Atheism is properly
used as a denial of God. It is not properly used as a
denial of a personal transcendent God. It is not prop-
erly used to describe monistic and immanent views of
God. If and when the Humanists deny the existence
of a personal transcendent God, they are not Atheists
any more than was Spinoza or Emerson. But, as a mat-
ter of fact, the Humanist attitude towards the idea of
God is not that of denial at all; it is that of inquiry.
The Humanist is questful; but if the quest be found

Vlll

Preface

fruitless he will still have his basic religion intact, viz..,
the human effort to live an abundant life.

While the foregoing theories as such are not to be
identified with Humanism as such, it should neverthe-
less be clearly understood that a Humanist might hold
more or less tentatively any one of these theories, just as
he might so hold any one of many theological theories.
In its basic nature Humanism short circuits cosmo-
logical theories and lays supreme emphasis upon certain
human attitudes which may or may not be enhanced by
cosmologies.

POSITIVELY STATED:

1. Humanism is the conviction that human life is
of supreme worth ; and consequently must be treated as
an end, not as a means. This is the basal article of the
faith of Humanism. So jealous is the Humanist of hu-
man worth that he insists on regarding it as inherent
and not derived from a super world of any sort. Human
worth is as native to human life as are finely equipped
organisms, delicately balanced impulses, and spiritual
urges. In fact, human worth is constituted of these and
needs no extraneous addition to make it valid. The Hu-
manist insists that human worth is intrinsic to human
nature; and that its derivation is of an evolutionary
character and is one with organic derivation.

There is nothing new in the corollary of human
worth, namely that man must be treated as an end, and
not as a means. The classic expression of this point of
view is in the philosophy of Kant, and Felix Adler has
incorporated it in his Ethical Philosophy. But Human-
ism affirms this view with great passion because of its
emphasis on the essentially human constituents of hu-
man worth.

Preface

IX

From this basic conviction several significant conse-
quences follow:

( 1 ) Man is not to be treated as a means to the glory
of God. The Westminster catechism said, "The chief
end of man is to glorify God, and to enjoy him forever."
This is typical of orthodox theologies. The glory of God
is primary; man is secondary. The result is that today
in most religious circles man is thought of as only an in-
strument in the hands of God. The "event" likewise is
said to be in the hands of God.

Traditional theologies of all sorts, the new as well
as the old theism make of man's worthful qualities a
reflection of a pattern kept forever on some eternal
mount, or a concrete expression of the universal, or a
billow upon an everlasting sea. Only by this eternal, or
universal, or billowy relation is man worthful. Human-
ism, on the other hand, holds to man's native and essen-
tial worth even though, as is likely the case, the eternals
and the universals and the everlasting seas be found to
be only the vaporous products of a natively worthful
imagination. (The worth of the imagination being in
the process of imagining, not in the product of the proc-
ess.)

(2) Man is not to be treated as a means to cosmic
ends. Whatever purposes, if any, the cosmos is working
out, man is not to be regarded as a means for their re-
alization. If the cosmos moves toward some far off di-
vine event, it is to be hoped that man's self-realization,
man's expansion, man's enrichment and ennoblement
will contribute somewhat to that event. But since man
cannot or at least does not know what that event is, or
what ends the cosmos favors he cannot and should not
order his ways for the attainment of any ends other than
human development. To fix attention on cosmic ends is
to weaken one's grasp on the human situation.

x Preface

(3) Man is not to be treated as a means to a moral
order. Morals grow out of human situations and are
binding in virtue of their human meaning. Morals are
means to human ends, not ends in themselves. Moral
law, like natural law, is a descriptive term, not an ob-
jective entity. The sense of ought, the feeling of re-
sponsibility, and the like, are products and instruments
of the emotional life of man, not authorities to be im-
posed upon man. Humanism takes evolution seriously
and finds in creative synthesis an explanation of moral
and spiritual matters as well as of physical and bio-
logical matters.

(4) Man is not to be treated as a means to a world
order. Economic, political, and social matters are means
to the ends of human life, not human life means to their
ends. Here Humanism touches vitally the whole social
system. Governments, mechanism of production and
distribution, arrangements for economic exchange, all
social and economic and political arrangements whatso-
ever are to be tested by their contribution to human life
and are to stand or fall by the verdict. Every element of
the social, political, and economic order must be con-
stantly re-examined, and altered, or obliterated on the
basis of its ministry to human needs.

Nothing in the realm of business or industry or the
state is to be regarded as sacred save as it gives itself to
the development of human life.

(5) Moreover, a man is not to be treated as a means
to any other man. Mutuality no doubt plays its part,
but mutuality is itself a means to personal values. No
man may use any other man for his own selfish pur-
poses. Eliciting the best that is in others is no doubt
mutually helpful, but each is to act towards the other
so as to enhance personal quality, neither being merely
a means to the other. The good of each must become the

Preface

XI

concern of all. This is a hard saying, but it is the heart
of any gospel that hopes to save mankind. I point you
not to an easy way but to a hard way.

Human life is of supreme importance and conse-
quently must be treated as an end, not as a means.

2. Humanism is the effort to understand human ex-
perience by means of human inquiry. The numerous ex-
planations of human experience fall under some one of
perhaps four general designations: Revelation, Intui-
tion, Speculation, and Investigation.

( 1 ) Strange enough most races and practically all
religions, baffled by the mysterious meanderings of life,
have regarded revelations of one sort or another as the
only possible way of understanding human experience.
Oracles, institutions, priests, books, great souls like
Jesus, have been regarded as sources of divine revela-
tion. But modern minded people no longer take serious-
ly the claims of supernatural revelations. So the non-
humanistic explanations of human experience are pass-
ing away.

(2) However intuition may be regarded, whatever
validity may accompany its insight, whatever may be
the ground of its functioning, whatever reality it may
lay hold upon, it is the human spirit that intuits. All the
elements of intuition are human elements. Its insights
are to be trusted only when based upon human experi-
ence and checked by the verified findings of human
science.

(3) It is likewise with speculation, which is a func-
tioning of the mind of man. Speculation is trustworthy
only when premised upon facts blasted from the quarry
of reality by the power of human investigation. Specu-
lation must rest upon a foundation of fact else its struc-
ture is but the plaything of a day. All theologies and
philosophies are the products of human speculation, and

XII

Preface

are to be evaluated as such. Theologies and philosophies
are subordinate to human life, not human life subordi-
nate to them,

(4) The investigation of facts, the holding tenta-
tively of hypothesis drawn from the facts, the verifica-
tion of findings, the revamping of theories, the endless
threading of the maze of life, is the modern, the scien-
tific, the Humanistic way to the understanding of hu-
man experience.

In fact all the ways are human ways. Even the non-
humanistic theory of supernatural revelation is itself
the product of the human mind. Human inquiry is a
highway cutting through every field of human experi-
ence.

So Humanism consciously depends upon human in-
quiry for its body of knowledge. And while the body of
knowledge is as yet but small it is gradually and cer-
tainly growing. More has been added to human knowl-
edge within a century by Humanistic science than the
old ways added in sixty centuries. The struggle of Hu-
manistic science with supernaturalistic superstition is
an epic classical in quality. Gradually the battlements
of the dark ages have been stormed, the old flags torn
asunder, and the fortresses leveled. As the debris is
gradually cleared away already may be seen ascending
the white columns of the palace of understanding. Al-
ready the surrounding fields are cleared, revealing fer-
tile soil from which may grow innumerable trees of
knowledge. Practically all of the present arts and in-
strumentalities of civilization are of recent Humanistic
origin.

It is a long journey from primitive mystery to mod-
ern knowledge, but the journey has been made by man.
Other and yet greater journeys are to be made. The
secrets of the heavens and of the earth are being ferreted

Prefc

'ace xiu

from hidden depths. Organisms are open for investiga-
tion. Molecules, atoms, and electrons are subjects of in-
quiry and analysis. The realms of the metaphysical are
tossed back and forth by human inquiry like balls by
the deft fingers of stage magicians. And all this is made
possible not by any kind of divine intervention but by
human ingenuity. Humanism is the effort to understand
human experience in its total setting by means of hu-
man investigation.

3. Humanism is the effort to enrich human experi-
ence to the utmost capacity of man and the utmost
limits of the environing conditions.

(1) The primary concern of Humanism is human
development. It embraces whatever facts or postulates,
whatever values or hypothesis, whatever sensory ex-
perience or esthetic delight, whatever machinery or
technique, may enhance human development. But Hu-
manism believes that in the long swing of things the
inner man is best served by respecting the objectivity of
facts and values. Humanism is fully aware that human
development is conditioned by the cosmic situation;
but it holds that within certain limits human intelli-
gence is regulative of cosmic situations for human ends.
Somehow and to some extent the cosmic situation con-
ditions but does not regulate human development.
Somehow and to some extent human intelligence regu-
lates but does not condition cosmic situations.

(2) Within the margin of human capacities and en-
vironing conditions Humanism aims at the fullest pos-
sible life for every person born into this world. The Hu-
manist is keenly conscious of the present human situa-
tion. Despite the geometrical progression of the physical
sciences and the vast accumulation of knowledge in
these fields the social sciences still move at the rate of
arithmetical progression. This distresses the Humanist.

XIV

Preface

He feels that personal and social values should speed
ahead. He takes seriously the present woeful condition
of the spirit of man, and finds no compensation in un-
folding cosmic purposes. He finds no cosmic compensa-
tion for the dead scattered on a thousand battlefields,
none for the living dead in a million homes, none for
the esthetically famished that multiply the world over.
These burden him greatly; and the burden is made
greater by a sense of human responsibility. Most of the
ills that beset the human body, most of the terrors that
frighten the human spirit, most of the plagues that lay
barren the earth are amenable to human control. And
they have not been controlled chiefly because man, not
understanding his own power, has fallen in slumber up-
on the bosom of the eternal. Every hair that is pre-
maturely gray, every clod that falls too soon upon the
casket of the dead, every unnecessary sorrow that dark-
ens a human brow, weighs upon the conscience of the
enlightened man.

The Humanist believes, however, that immense im-
provement is possible, that wholesale measures may
rapidly redeem vast areas of the earth, and that human
intelligence and technique are equal to the task.

(3) The Humanist does not want to wait for the
slow processes of nature. He believes that man may
speed up the processes of nature, that desired results
may quickly follow the application of human intelli-
gence to concrete problems, that a decade of intelligence
may right the wrongs of centuries, that one generation
motivated by good will and directed by intelligence
could achieve results that would enrich countless gener-
ations yet to be born. The fortunes of the world are not
in the lap of the gods, but in the hands of man.

Nor does the Humanist want to wait for the slow
processes of nurture. I ther would he speed up nurture

Preface

xv

itself in the development of the young; and in the de-
velopment of the elders, he would seek psychological
new births. Men's patterns of action are not fixed irre-
vocably by past events. Causes, ideas, goals have regen-
erative power. Things yet to be are sometimes more
potent than things that have been. The Humanist does
not forget that the slow prodding processes are essen-
tial ; but he believes that wholesale measures of reform
and of creative will are feasible and imperative.

Let me close with a quotation from Humanism,
which I believe sums up the matter : "Man is capable of
achieving things heretofore thought utterly impossible.
He is capable of so ordering human relations that life
shall be preserved, not destroyed; that justice shall be
established, not denied; that love shall be the rule, not
the exception. It but remains for religion to place hu-
man responsibility at the heart of its gospel. When this
is done, science and democracy and religion will have
formed an alliance of wisdom, vision, and power. In
this high concert of values, religion must be the servant
and through service the master of all."

CURTIS W. REESE.

Chicago, 1927.

PAGE

PREFACE v

Curtis W. Reese

RELIGION : A SURVEY AND FORECAST .... 3
John Haynes Holmes

HUMANISM AND HISTORY 23*

Charles H. Lyttle

THE FAITH OF HUMANISM 39

Curtis W. Reese

THEISM AND HUMANISM 51.

E. Stanton Hodgin

CHRISTIANITY AND HUMANISM 65

E. Burdette Backus

MODERNISM AND HUMANISM 79

A. Wake field Slat en

UNITARIANISM AND HUMANISM 95-

John H. Dietrich

THE UNIVERSE OF HUMANISM 117*

EarlF. Coo A.

THE ARCHITECTURE OF HUMANISM 133-

Eugene Milne Cosgrove

CHANGE AND DECAY IN RELIGION 149^

L. M. Birkhead

THE SPIRITUAL VALUE OF THE ETHICAL LIFE. . . 159,,
E. Caldecott

THE UNITY OF THE SPIRITUAL LIFE 175

Sidney S. Robins

xvii

xviii Contents

PAGE

HUMANISM AND THE INNER LIFE 185

Frederick AT. Eliot

THE UNSHARED LIFE 197

James H. Hart

HUMANISM AND THE GOD WITHIN 213-"

Frank S. C. Wicks

JUST BEING HUMAN 221"

Frank C. Do an

HUMANISM RELIGION IN THE MAKING. . . . 239
Artkur L. Weatherly

THE HUMANIST RELIGIOUS IDEAL 253

A, Eustace Hay don

I

RELIGION:
A SURVEY AND FORECAST

JOHN HAYNES HOLMES

The Community Church
Nea York

Religion:
o

John Haynes Holmes

JL HE QUESTION which I am to discuss is oc-
casioned by the fact, which must be as apparent to
others as it is to me, that the religious world in our time
is in a state of disturbance and upheaval such as it has
not known since the age of the Protestant Reformation.
It is not too much to say that Protestantism is breaking
up today, just as Catholicism was breaking up in the fif-
teenth and sixteenth centuries. Great movements of
unrest are everywhere abroad. On the one hand, the
churches, for reasons which we are not yet willing to ad-
mit to ourselves, no longer exercise any of the authority
which was so easily and completely theirs a hundred
years ago. Their sanctions are destroyed, their founda-
tions sapped, the springs of their existence running dry.
On the other hand, the people have discovered a thou-
sand new and vital interests which had no place in the
world until the coming of our generation. Just as the
Reformation was preceded and accompanied by the
Renaissance, so the religious upheaval of our day has
been preceded and is now accompanied by a new knowl-
edge, a new experience, unprecedented for range and
wonder in the history of mankind. We are living in a
new world; we are using powers of which the gods

Humanist Sermons

themselves knew nothing In the ancient days.^ What
wonder then that the old, traditional institutions of
society seem as incapable of containing this new life as
the sides of a mountain containing the molten lava
when an eruption is blazing forth. For better or worse,
our old religious world is breaking up. Our children, or
our children's children, are never going to see that life
of Bible reading, Sabbath observance, church attend-
ance, creeds, rituals, sacraments, ecclesiastical law and
custom, into which we were born, and in which most of
us were reared. On the contrary, they will look back
upon these things very largely as we look back upon
sacrificial offerings, magic charms and incantations,
ceremonial dances and medicine men interesting rel-
ics, but nothing more.

What forces are under way to produce these changes ?
What has come upon us, to destroy our institutions and
remake our ways? Is religion disappearing; or will a
deeper and finer interpretation of life replace the old,
and demonstrate once more the truth of Fiske's great
phrase, "the everlasting reality of religion"? These
are questions which press upon us, if we be intelligent.

I can touch upon only a few of the more conspicuous
factors in the situation, and upon these very lightly.
I think of Keats' famous line "I stood tip-toe upon a
little hill !" But this need not disturb us, for the fac-
tors which I shall name are typical, and may be safely
taken as illustrative of all the forces which are at work
in the religious field. For our purposes, I mention three
of what seem to me to be the most interesting processes
of our time.

( 1 ) First of all, there is that movement which has
been under way ever since the Renaissance, steadily
gaining momentum as the generations pass, which can
best be summed up in the rather formidable word, "sec-

John Jtfqynes JJolmes

ularization." In all ages men have recognized the dis-
tinction between the sacred and the secular. The sacred
comprised all that lay within the religious field all
that concerned the eternal destiny of man in this world
and in the next. The secular, on the other hand, com-
prised everything that lay outside the religious field
those things that had exclusively to do with temporal
matters and concerns. St. Paul had this antinomy in
mind when he wrote that immortal sentence: "The
things which are seen are temporal, but the things
which are unseen are eternal."

Now in medieval times, as largely in ancient times,
the sacred was so well-nigh universal in its range as to
swallow up the secular altogether. There was "the
temporal power" of the kings, to be sure, but this was
subordinate to the eternal power of the church, and thus
little other than a name. The church, as a matter of
fact, took everything under its direction and control.
This life was but a pilgrimage to the world beyond the
grave, and it was natural, therefore, that its spiritual
interests should monopolize the field. With the Renais-
sance, however, there came a great awakening the
Renaissance, as the word implies, was itself the awak-
ening. Men suddenly became interested, for the first
time in a thousand years, in what we now recognize as
secular affairs, and little by little began to emancipate
themselves from the exclusive rule of religion. This is
the movement which is known in modern history as
"secularization."

Illustrations of this movement are almost number-
less. The secularization of the state is perhaps the most
obvious as it is the most dramatic. In the old days, the
kings were the feudal retainers of the pope ; the nations
were so many parts of the great universal domain of
the church. With the advent of Protestantism came the

Humanist Sermons

separation of church and state the deliverance of the
government as such from any control of any kind by
organized religion. This process, which began a good
fiVe hundred years ago, is completing itself in our time.
Thus, at the opening of the present century, France
precipitated its great fight for disestablishment, which
resulted, in that country as in this country, in the sep-
aration of church and state. Exactly the same fight is
now going on in Catholic Mexico, to exactly the same
end. The Bolsheviki fought the same fight in Russia,
where the Holy Church had been the supreme power in
the government of the Czar. In only a few countries
today is there an established church. England, curious-
ly enough, is one of these; but here the relationship sur-
vives because the state is supreme over the church, and
thus uses it to its own temporal and worldly ends.

Another instance of secularization is found in the
schools and universities. In the old days, education was
exclusively in the hands of the church. One of the great
achievements of the church in the Middle Ages was the
founding of those great centers of learning in Oxford,
Paris, Amsterdam, Padua, which were later to prove
its own undoing as in the work of such a scholar, for
example, as Erasmus. But today the schools are free of
religious influences; they belong to the body-politic,
not to the body-ecclesiastic. There are a few sectarian
institutions here and there, to be sure the Catholic
Church, in its own defense, maintains its system of paro-
chial schools but the great body of education is in
the hands of the public. Which means that our schools
and colleges are to be rated now as secular rather than
as sacred institutions.

The same thing is seen in the private life of the indi-
vidual. In former days, we were in the hands of the
church from the hour of birth to the hour of death. We

John JPIaynes ffolmes 7

were baptized when we came into the world, for the
saving of our souls ; we were given the last rites of the
church when we passed into the beyond, again for the
saving of our souls; if we married, it was by the church,
that our union might be lawful and its fruits blessed.
Now the tendency is all the other way. Baptism, with
enlightened people, is no longer a sacrament, but, if it
survives at all, a service of moral uplift and dedication.
The last rites of the church survive in Catholicism but
not in Protestantism; the funeral parlors, multiplying
all about us, show how many people these days are
being buried outside the churches altogether. As for
marriage, it is first of all today a civil ceremony; the
religious ceremony is a matter of choice but not of law.

So the process of "secularization" has gone on, and is
going on ! More and more the churches are being thrust
aside. More and more is society finding it possible to
live outside the domain of religion, if it so desires. And
more and more is it so desiring ! Every day our world
is less a sacred world, and more a secular world. The
"invisible" is becoming truly invisible; the visible is
all we seem to want to see !

(2) A second process, well under way and far ad-
vanced in our time, takes us into the field of ethics.
From one point of view, this movement may be de-
scribed as one more extension of the secularization proc-
ess ; but it is so distinctive and important in itself, that
I prefer to consider it by itself.

What I have in mind is the fact that morality today
is tending to set itself up as something entirely inde-
pendent of religion. Ethics is claiming and establishing
its autonomy. There was a time and it is still with
us in certain parts of the world when morality derived
its life from religion, its authority from the religious
sanction. The moral law was the moral law, to be rec-

8 Humanist Sermons

ognized and obeyed without dispute, because it was the
law of God, established by his will. It was something
handed down, in other words, from above, as the two
tables of the Law were handed down to Moses upon
Sinai by the great Jehovah himself. But nobody be-
lieves this any more nobody, that is, who lives in the
world of enlightenment and intelligence! The Ten
Commandments, as recorded in the Bible, have no di-
vine authority. If they have any authority at all, it be-
longs to themselves for what they are from the stand-
point of history and experience, not to any heavenly
source from which they may be supposed to be derived.
As a matter of fact, the old decalogue of Moses is sadly
shaken in our time as an absolute code of ethics.

In many minds, the outer sanction of religion, as the
basis of the moral life, has disappeared only to give way
to the inner sanction. Not in the Bible as the word of
God but in the conscience as the voice of God, is tlje
seat of authority in morals ! This was the teaching of
the Transcendentalists in the eighteenth and nineteenth
centuries of Kant in Germany, Coleridge in England,
Emerson in America. There are three things we can be
sure of, said Theodore Parker, as intuitions of the Soul :
these are God, Immortality, and the Moral Law. But
this transcendental viewpoint, like the Mosaic view-
point, has almost wholly disappeared in our time. The
sociologist has long since learned to interpret morals
as the code or custom of the race as formulated from
the experience of ages past. The psychologist, especial-
ly he of the contemporary Behaviorist school, sees con-
science as a function peculiar to the individual as a
guide to action, and not native, in any sense, to the
cosmos of the spirit. It is still dubious as to just what
the conscience is, and how it works; but that it is an
infallible voice, is an idea no longer tenable.

John JPlaynet ftolmes

It is thus that morality is separating itself from re-
ligion. The Moral Law still holds among us, as august
and imperative as ever. But no longer do we seek for
a religious sanction of this Law. It stands today on its
own feet; it speaks by virtue of its own authority. Re-
ligion, in other words, is no longer necessary to the
moral life. We could get rid of religion, and still have
morality. The Ethical Culture Society, a movement
which refuses to call itself a religion, yet exalts the
Moral Law beyond all other movements of our time
this is the perfect, as it is a most impressive, illustration
of what I mean.

(3) A third process, making for the disintegration of
religion, is that of physical or natural science. We are
familiar with the conflict between religion and science
during the last four hundred years. We are not familiar,
most of us do not allow ourselves to be familiar, with
the outcome of this conflict. This outcome, of course,
is perfectly simple; it is the victory of science on every
battlefield where the issue with religion has been joined.
Christianity, as we know it, has a perfectly definite in-
terpretation of life upon this planet. It tells how man
began; it presents the stupendous drama of his fall and
condemnation; it portrays the miracle of Christ, the
Son of God, come down to earth, to suffer and thus
atone for humankind; it reveals the wonder of redemp-
tion, and its eternal rewards in the life beyond the
grave. But science knows nothing of all this; it writes
the story of the race, from earliest beginnings even until
now, and says nothing about these events. Nay, more
than this it positively disproves the reality of the
Christian narrative. The earth was not made as stated
in the Scriptures; man was not created arbitrarily by
the hand of God, and placed innocent and blameless
in the world; man did not fall from an original state

io Humanist Sermons

of grace, but on the contrary has risen out of the dust,
out of the realm of animal existence, by a process of
evolution more marvellous than anything narrated in
Holy Writ ; as for the Son of God and his atonement,
it is all a myth as patent as the quest of Theseus or the
labors of Hercules. Nothing is more amazing, to my
mind, in reading books of theology and biblical inter-
pretation, than to discover how these books deal with
a world which the geologist, the biologist, the sociol-
ogist, the psychologist, the historian, the scientist gen-
erally, refuses to recognize, indeed knows nothing
about. The world of theology is as mythical to him as
the lost Atlantis or the Islands of the Blest. And so
must it be to any man who believes that science today
is practising the only method of inquiry that can lead
to truth, and that its results are the only reality we
know. The theologians all these years have been build-
ing a fabric as unsubstantial as the medieval realms of
the astrologer and alchemist. We have discovered this,
and no man of intelligence takes it seriously any more.
The churches, however, still cling to this great mass
of fable and superstition. They force a choice, in other
words, between science and religion, and thus drive the
modern man to accept his science at the cost of losing
his religion. This process was forecast in revolutionary
books of the eighteenth century, such as the writings
of Voltaire and Tom Paine's "Age of Reason." It was
well under way in the last quarter of the nineteenth
century, when the evolutionists were establishing their
philosophy. Beatrice Webb, in her recent autobiog-
raphy, speaks of her experience as a young girl in the
1870's when she found herself confronting what she
calls "the watershed" between Christianity and science,
"which was destined," she says, "to submerge all re-
ligion based on tradition and revelation." This process

John flaynes jPIolmes 1 1

now has gone so far that most leaders of thought and
life are frankly confessing that they are no longer
Christians in the theological sense of that historic word.
And this process is bound to go on, of course, just as
fast and far as education spreads abroad among the
people a knowledge of the facts of modern science. In
England, the "Nation," and the "Daily News/' con-
ducted an inquiry among their readers on questions of
religion. Of the "Nation's" readers, 60 per cent ex-
pressed disbelief in a personal God, 70 per cent denied
the divinity of Christ, 7 1 per cent denied the inspiration
of the Bible, and 48 per cent went so far as to say that
they did not believe in Christianity in any form. The
"Daily News," with its much more popular constit-
uency, showed a higher ration of believers, but even
among its readers 25 per cent declared that they did
not believe in Christianity in any form. Science, in
other words, has done its work. Faith seeps out as
knowledge filters down.

Now here are three of the great processes which are
under way today in the field of religion : secularization,
ethical autonomy, and scientific inquiry. The three are
typical of many others that might be mentioned. Taken
together they show conclusively what is happening to
religion. Little by little religion is being hammered to
pieces. What Beatrice Webb says in her book of "the
seventies and eighties" of the last century, is a thousand
times truer today; "The Christian tradition," she writes,
"had grown thin and brittle, more easily broken than
repaired." It is the Fundamentalists who see this with
perfect clearness, and refuse to dodge the issue. Would
that the Modernists had vision as clear and courage as
consistent ! These Fundamentalists understand that all
the tendencies of modern life, all its activities and all
its thought, are fatal to religion as we have inherited

Humanist Sermons

it from the past. They see it eating into the founda-
tions of the church as a flood eats into the foundations
of a building. Already they see the church tumbling
and they would save it before it is too late. Hence the
madness with which they strive to dam the flood ! They
would stop the process of secularization restore the
Puritan Sabbath, put religion into the schools, re-
establish the union of church and state. They would
re-identify morals with religion. Our crime waves, our
contemporary laxity of manners, our lawlessness, and
general corruption all these, they say, are due to
our refusal to teach our children to "fear God and do
his commandments." In the same way, they would de-
stroy modern science bar it from our colleges, tear it
from our text-books, banish it as we would a pestilence
from our lives. Religion cannot survive, they assert,
if these things are allowed to go on. And they are right !
Steadily these processes have been going on, and stead-
ily they have weakened the influence and authority of
religion. More and more people every year are confess-
ing their repudiation of Christianity; more and more
people every week are proving their ability to get along
happily and well without the church. Already there is
one community at least in this country which, by the
general agreement of its citizens, has, and will have,
no church within its borders. Already in New York
City we have a vast metropolis in which the majority
of the inhabitants know and care no more about religion
than they do about an illuminated manuscript of the
Middle Ages. What is happening to religion ? Religion,
as we have known it, is disintegrating, steadily and
surely, under the impact of modern life. A widely read,'
an impressive book of our time, is significantly entitled,
"The Non-Religion of the Future."
All this seems clear. Yet does it seem equally clear

John fiaynes ffolmes 13

that we cannot leave the matter here. We have the
truth, but have we the whole truth? When that author
writes of "the non-religion of the future/' is he think-
ing of a vacuum to take the place of this very real sub-
stance of spiritual faith? On the contrary, does not
nature abhor a vacuum in the inner life of man as well
as in the outer life of the universe; and must not some-
thing, therefore, rush in, like air into an empty bottle,
to take the place of what has gone? Is there not some-
thing, indeed, already rushing in? Or, to change the
figure, is there not something still abiding after so
much is taken away? Beatrice Webb tells us of the
havoc that science wrought with her Christian faith;
but she confesses her belief that it is "by prayer, by
^communion with an all-pervading spiritual force, that
Othe soul of man discovers the purpose of human en-
^-deavor." Our religion is going no doubt of that ! But
^is it not going in order that religion itself, in some
^perfect and absolute sense of the word, may truly come?

00 We can best answer this final question, it seems to
me, by seeking to express in a single sentence, all that
is happening to religion at this moment. Hitherto I

>have been presenting an analysis of the situation. Let
wme now turn round, and attempt a synthesis of the

forces that are at work.

o^ All that I have been describing thus far can be

rOsummed up in the single declaration that the super-

Arftiatural is everywhere giving way before the natural.

Nature is coming into her own at the expense of the

.miraculous, the mysterious, the sacred the supernat-

1 ural ! What is this matter of secularization, for exam-
ple, but the discovery that politics and education, the

^ regular phenomena of every day, have nothing extra-
ordinary about them, but belong to the natural proc-
esses of man's life upon this planet? Why must a child

14 Humanist Sermons

be baptized at birth, why must the last unction be ad-
ministered at death, when birth and death are both a
part of the natural cycle of existence, and thus have
their own sanctity and beauty? So with morals ! Why
seek for some revelation of what is right and wrong;
why listen for some divine Voice to give us counsel?
Out of man's own experience has come the secret of the
Moral Law.

"Out from the heart of Nature rolled
The burdens of the Bible old:
Up from the burning core below
The canticles of love and woe."

Science teaches us the same lesson. In the old days,
nature was the abode of the supernatural; the world
was peopled with gods and demons. The natural
phenomena of sun and rain, of storm and ocean, were
all of them marvels, to be explained in ways of miracle
and wonder. Even after Copernicus and Galileo had
done their work, the great astronomer, Kepler, ex-
plained the motions of the stars by saying that each was
the abode of an angel. Today all such ideas are gone.
Science has led us into the realm of immutable law. In
place of miracle, we have the unchanging order of space
and time; in place of signs and wonders, we have the
majestic successions of cause and effect. The natural,
in a word, has supplanted the supernatural. All that
realm of mystery and awe, wherein religion has func-
tioned through the centuries, has gone like an "unsub-
stantial dream," and "left not a wrack behind/'

It is this passing of the supernatural before the tri-
umphant progress of the natural, which is the one all-
inclusive phenomenon of our time. And it is this which
seems to involve the passing of religion. For religion
and this is the turning-point of my discourse religion

John flaynes ffolmes 15

has always been associated up to our time with the
supernatural. Its rites, its ceremonies, its doctrines, all
have developed out of the supernatural concept of the
universe. Now that this concept is going, religion of
course seems to be going with it.

But does religion belong exclusively or necessarily to
the supernatural? Does it lurk only in dark places, and
reveal itself only in sudden mysteries and marvels ? Are
these divine processes only in floating ax-heads and
dead men's bones, and not in whirling planets, and mov-
ing tides, and blossoming flowers? Is God to be found
only in smoking Sinais and Bethlehem mangers, and
not in

"* * * the light of setting suns,
And the round ocean and the living air,
And the blue sky, and in the mind of man?"

Is there no religion, in other words, in the natural?
What are we to think of that wonderful hymn, found in
the Note Books of Leonardo da Vinci, long after his
death? He had been pondering, this early scientist,
upon the wonders of natural law, the unchanging
processes of life, as they unfolded themselves in vision
before his prophetic gaze. And moved to profound emo-
tion by this revelation of what Lowell so well called
"the commonplace of miracle," he lifted up strange
words of adoration. "O marvellous Necessity," he
cried, "thou with supreme reason constrainest all effects
to be the direct result of their causes, and by a supreme
and irrevocable law every natural action obeys thee by
the shortest process." "To Leonardo at that moment,"
says a commentator, "it must have been as if the win-
dows of the world were suddenly opened." He was ad-
mitted into the outer spaces, and there, in the law and
order of nature, he discovered God.

1 6 Humanist Sermons

Now it is this discovery of religion in the natural as
opposed to the supernatural, this presence of the divine
spirit in and through the familiar processes of life, it is
this that constitutes the great achievement of our time,
and marks this age potentially as the most marvellous
period of spiritual revival since the Protestant Re-
formation.

What is the greatest truth about religion today? It is
the truth that religion springs direct from the heart of
man that religion is life as we feel it within us and see
it about us. Where did religion come from how did it
begin? Religion had its origin not in revelation but in
experience the experience of man wrestling with
nature and with his fellows in the vast struggle for sur-
vival. Religion, in the last analysis, from the stand-
point alike of origin and character, may be defined as
man's reaction upon the universe, upon the infinite and
eternal realities to which his eyes first open on the earth.
In the early days, this reaction was predominantly that
of fear. "In the beginning/ 5 says Lewis Browne, describ-
ing the origin of religion in that fascinating book of his
called "This Believing World/' "there was fear. All the
days of man were gray with fear, because all his uni-
verse seemed charged with danger. Earth and sea and
sky were set against him at least, so primitive man
concluded." Religion, therefore, interpreted as man's
experience with, or reaction upon, the universe, sprang
originally from fear; and this fear, in turn, from ig-
norance. Man did not know and understand the proc-
esses of life, and therefore was afraid of them, and by
his religion sought to propitiate them. In time, how-
ever, he began to learn about the sun and rain, the
pasturing of the flocks and the planting of the seed, the
courage of men and the love of women. His ignorance
little by little began to turn into knowledge; and, with

John ffaynes jPIolmes 17

knowledge, the universe began to take on a kindlier,
even a helpful, aspect. In our day, with the triumphs of
science all about us, we have indefinitely extended the
bounds of knowledge and are mastering steadily the
processes of life, with the result that fear is giving way
to courage, and courage to a sense of beauty. Religion
remains what it has always been man's reaction upon
this great universe of the infinite and eternal. But this
reaction is altogether different in character from what
it used to be. Today we accept the universe, instead of
fearing and hating it. We run to welcome and receive
it, instead of running away and hiding from it. We
gather life up into our embrace, that it may become a
part of us, and we a part of it. Our desire is the desire of

the poet, to be "at one with the perfect whole." Knowl-

f . CnS ,,^^^"^

edge, in other words, has lead us away trom tear and
into love. We have discovered a passion for fellowship
with all created things. We have found a new religion.
Nay, we have laid hold at last upon religion itself, in its
essential estate that religion which Bertrand Russell,
in his little book, "What I Believe," identifies with "the
good life," which is "inspired by love and guided by
knowledge."

Now it is this religion which is coming into its own
today. What is happening, in other words, is just the
opposite of what has seemed to be happening. Religion,
in the true sense of the word, is not being destroyed,
pushed aside, broken up and cast away. Superstition,
which is the religion of the supernatural, is being de-
stroyed and cast away no doubt about that ! But re-
ligion itself as the spiritual expression of the natural
and normal, this is flowing in, like a mighty tide from
out the deep, and flooding all the area of man's exist-
ence. Do I speak of secularization? What is seculariza-
tion but the sublime discovery that politics, education,

1 8 Humanist Sermons

the business and affairs of every day, the routine phe-
nomena of life, are all experiences of the soul of man,
and therefore phases of religion? Ethical autonomy
the breaking away of morals from the sanction of re-
ligion ! What is this but the discovery that morals is its
own religion, exercises its own authority, reveals a law
of spiritual Necessity working in man's soul as the law
of physical Necessity, to which Leonardo prayed, is
working in his body? And Science, the immortal glory
of our times, what is this but the mind of man delving
its persistent way to Truth, which is the heart of God?
Religion going? On the contrary, religion is only just
beginning to come ! At the moment, all is confusion ;
the forces about us seem to be the forces of destruction.
But this is because superstition, the old religion of the
supernatural, is in the way and must be removed, as the
mouldering walls of some old building must be removed
and carted off, before the new structure, already con-
ceived and charted, can rise in the soaring structure of
steel and stone.

What is happening to religion? It is being bora,
after the long gestation of the ages this new and true
religion of natural experience. The birth process is no
easier or lovelier than is any birth process anywhere. It
is a thing of strain and agony and seeming death. But
when the birth is done, and the new life is come into the
world, then shall we see what has transpired before our
eyes. Man will have found himself at last. His mind,
fronting the world, will see reality; his heart, reaching
forth unto his fellows, will discover love; his soul, dis-
cerning the fellowship of men, will dream of that "Be-
loved Community," which is the Kingdom of God upon
the earth. We shall have religion, in other words, in its
pure and native estate God found in nature as the re-
ward of knowledge, and in man as the victory of love.

John ffaynes fito/mes 19

As I look ahead and try to discern the outlines of this
religion as it will dwell among us in days to come, I seem
to see certain things with clearness :

( 1 ) There will be no gods in the future no "Jeho-
vah, Jove, or Lord" but, to quote the words of Charles
W. Eliot, in his "The Religion of the Future/' "one
omnipresent, eternal energy, informing and inspiring
the whole creation at every instant of time and through-
out the infinite spaces."

(2) There will be no churches, as we have churches
today. There will be just the community, with its sacred
places of the common life here a quiet spot, like the
Lincoln Memorial in Washington, where the soul may
go apart and pray here a vast arena, like the Civic
Auditorium in Cleveland or the open park in St. Louis,
where men may come together in pursuit of Truth and
Beauty.

(3) There will be no Sundays, as we have Sundays
today. There will be just the endeavor of the common
life to make every day a holy day, one hour of each such
day an hour of communal consecration, and regularly
the festal days when all may seek for joy and recreation.

(4) There will be no Bibles, as we have our Bible to-
day. There will be just the assembled literature of all
ages and peoples, the works of genius sanctified by
usage.

(5) There will be no prophets or saviours, no Mes-
siah, Christ, or Son of God, come down to earth to save
mankind from death. There will be just the great and
good among mankind seekers after truth, heroes of
justice and the right, champions of liberty, servants of
love; a new calendar of saints Isaiah, Jesus, Francis
of Assisi, George Fox, all of these ; but also Darwin and
Pasteur, Lincoln and Emerson, Whitman and Tolstoi,
Romain Rolland and Mahatma Gandhi.

20 Humanist Sermons

(6) There will be no religions as we have them to-
day, but just religion. This means that there will be no
sects and denominations no Confucianism, Hinduism,
Judaism, Christianity. These names, and many like
them, may survive, but they will be like the "many man-
sions" in God's house just so many parts of the one in-
clusive whole, which is the divine brotherhood of
, humankind.

So will the world become as one great temple, and
men as one great family, and all true life divine.

II

HUMANISM AND HISTORY

CHARLES H, LYTTLE
Professor Church History

Meadvtlle Theological School
Chicago

Humanism anc

Charles H. Lyttle

JLT is very helpful, when attempting the ap-
praisal of radical movements of any kind, to place
oneself in imagination at a point far back in history and
thence to contemplate the unfolding of events, with
particular respect to the appearance of the wholly un-
expected. Nowhere better than in the religious his-
tory of our race is the theory substantiated that a
combination of things of known properties results in
the development of new properties usually quite un-
anticipated. Could the sagest of mortals, gazing upon
the Mediterranean world of 100 B.C., with its half-
organized Roman Empire, its effete Hellenism, its
orgiastic mystery cults, its aristocratic Stoicism, its
proud, senescent Judaism, have had the slightest pre-
monition that within 250 years a short space in-
deed for such leisurely times the Christian Church,
equipped with a theological system at once incredibly
superstitious and incredibly sublime, would be planted
firmly throughout that world? Again, taking 1450 A.
D. as our pinnacle of prospect, who would then have
dreamed that the new commercialism, nationalism, hu-
manistic study of the Greek New Testament, the ex-
travagance of the Renaissance popes and the ambition

23

24 Humanist Sermons

of Renaissance princes were to produce, by 1550 A.D.,
a complete religious transformation of Europe, the de-
fection of the northern nations from Rome, the awaken-
ing of science from its Alexandrian folios, the discovery
of a hemisphere, the colonization of America? In both
cases, the things that did actually come to pass would
have seemed inconceivable to the vast majority of folk
in 200 B. C. or 1450 A. D. For caution's sake, I said,
"yast majority" ; in fact I know of no minority at all
not one single true prophecy of what actually developed
after the dates specified. I once heard Dr. Crothers,
speaking to a club of graduate students at Harvard,
stress the cc historicity of the contemporaneous" and the
phrase has served me as a luminous axiom for years. Is
it not quite as valid to lay stress, as I am trying to do on
this occasion, upon the possible historicity of the wholly
unexpected, and by this clue to consider the revolution
in religious thought which manifestly impends over the
future of western civilization at least, if not over Mo-
hammedan, Hindu and Confucian theology as well ?

This change is proceeding so quietly and gradually
that it resembles the processes of Nature. Accordingly
I can point to no present, dominating Christ, no recently
published Gospels, no infant colossus of a Church which
give promise of supplanting the old. These things will
appear, perhaps, after the transformation has attained
self-consciousness. But there is evidence everywhere
that the old supernaturalism, the old monotheistic
premises, the old moral sanctions, the old sectarian feal-
ties are sinking into paralysis. The slow waning of the
Roman Catholic system in South America, Mexico,
Italy, Czecho-Slovakia, Austria even in Spain; the de-
cline of Protestantism in America, England and Ger-
many; the disintegration of the Greek Orthodox Church
in Russia and Greece and Asia Minor; the tremendous

Charles H. Lyttle 25

increase in the unchurched, indifferent, even agnostic
population whom religion of a mystical or theological
sort never touches save at funerals; the universal sub-
stitution of prudential morality for theological, hedon-
ist objectives for spiritual such evidence is so obvious,
even obtrusive at times, that premonitions are natural.
To be sure, there are apparent exceptions to such a gen-
eralization; I am quite aware of the growth of Roman
Catholic prestige in England and France, and the con-
cessions made by Bolshevism to the Orthodox church.
But if one measures the situation by a yardstick of fifty
or seventy-five years rather than of ten years, I am sure
my estimate will stand. You and I live in a world no
longer vitally controlled by thoughts and forces which
the orthodox of seventy-five years ago would regard as
religious in any sense. Urban life, the industrial revolu-
tion, the social providence of modern medical science,
the economic struggle and its defiance of ethics, cosmo-
politan culture, with its toleration of alien creeds and
customs, the discoveries of science, nationalist romanti-
cism are conspiring to revolutionize religion as they are
affecting all other basic concepts of life. If the world
succeeds in avoiding, through the prevalence of inter-
national law, through the extension of commercial or-
ganization over the world, and through the creation of
the international mind, a series of appalling race and
color wars, I believe that in another century wholly new
religious conceptions will dominate the western hemi-
sphere at least. Will this mean the atrophy, the disap-
pearance of religion? By no means. The great hetero-
doxies of the past have not so affected religion; they
have ennobled and enriched it. Religious experience has
become, through their quickening, more profound, re-
ligious philosophy has more sincerely wooed reality, re-
ligious sanctions have become more cogent and socially

26 Humanist Sermons

beneficial ; the religious life more wholesome, symmetri-
cal, serene and joyous. Just as Christianity was an im-
provement upon Hellenism, as Protestantism surpassed
Roman Catholicism, as the rational Christianity of the
eighteenth and nineteenth centuries excelled original
Protestantism in these respects, so the new theology of
Man will outstrip the modernist Christianity of today
in bringing dignity and beauty to personality, eleva-
tion and delicacy to the feelings, clarity and sagacity
to the mind, and to conduct, purity and compassion. It
will assist' in enlarging the areas of peace, justice and
humaneness in the earth; and then its off spring in turn
will be grander than itself.

"So, while the floods of thought lay waste
The proud domain of priestly creeds,
The heaven-appointed tides will haste
To plant new homes for human needs.

Be ours to mark with hearts unchilled
The change an outworn church deplores ;
The legend sinks, but faith shall build
A fairer home on new-found shores."

Few, if any, of the apparent negations offered by the
religious radicalism of today promise to subtract any-
thing really valuable from the vital content of religious
faith. Let us consider some of the supposed losses from
the viewpoint of the faith of progress, rather than that
of the laudator temporis acti. If the sense of sin is no
longer so acute and despotic as the old sexual and egotis-
tic taboos (shockingly exploited by priestly mys-
tagogy) rendered it, the new science and standards of
physical and psychic health, the new canons of social re-
sponsibility seem likely to be far more effective than the
old morbidities for the enhancement of noble character
and generous motives; indeed how much more thorough
is the new therapeutic than the old confessional with its

Charles H. Lyttle 27

superficial rites and penalties ! If the old religious ex-
perience of saving grace bestowed by a supernatural
Giver no longer yields comfort to the soul distracted be-
tween vicious habit and scientific doubt concerning
grace, the new discipline of self-control, of self-forget-
fulness in human service has, as experience demon-
strates, power to afford liberation, inner peace, per-
severance in well-doing, the cheerful assurance in death
that one's life has been redeemed from meanness and
frivolity, and that its current has been toward immortal
good. In like manner, the old motley Bible will be aug-
mented by the greater Bible of Humanity, the inspira-
tional masterpieces of all faiths, free from bigotry and
groveling piety; the Church, purged of prelatical
self-interest and the domination of class or dogma, will
be remolded into a more truly catholic incorporation
of Divine Humanity than history has yet known, ma-
ternal in sympathy, militant for Right, dedicated to the
salvaging of human life by scientific methods rather
than by incantations, a genuine citadel of the spirit, a
true fellowship of all who love in the service of all who
suffer. The more universally such a church prevails
against the gates of hell, the more admirable will the
character and work of Jesus appear, and all the creative
humanitarianism of his gospel will operate to realize on
earth the millenium he relied upon God to decree.

Indeed, I believe there is no genuine source of inspira-
tion, comfort and hope that will not be cleared of leaves,
fungi and silt by the new religious thought, so that its
stream may gush forth strong and limpid after long
stagnation.

To many, of course, this issue may not be so sure. For
example, the tendency frequently observable today to
withhold affirmation of belief in a personal or supra-
personal Intelligence, omnipotently ordering the uni-

28 Humanist Sermons

verse, sustaining a fatherly relation toward every
human soul, permitting sin and evil as the necessary dis-
cipline of moral selfhood, is regarded as an irreplaceable
loss, a subtraction of the central principle of trust and
strength and hope from religion. The perfect object of
adoration and worship is lost, the certitude of the right
issue of human life and history is gainsaid, the main
guarantee of the worthwhileness of the life of duty is
withdrawn, the comfort in affliction of the thought of
the Shepherd of souls is forbidden. Again, the unwill-
ingness of humanists to affirm the survival of personali-
ty after the death of the body is often regarded as an ad-
mission of fundamental skepticism concerning the ever-
lasting value of the good life. Does the struggle avail
nothing, after all ? Does vast, cold, dark Silence keep in
our little patch of human sunshine on all sides, and utter
loneliness or oblivion or dull vegetation succeed the love
the laughter, the vivid awareness of these earth hours?
No! Let it be the boon of religion to support hope
rather than to shatter it ! Let us have faith in faith if
faith in reason leads to the appalling conclusion that
"love can lose its own."

Tested by such grave remonstrances (based on pro-
foundest human experience) against the impoverish-
ment of religion through loss of faith in a personal God
and in life after death, the compensations afforded by
the new religious philosophy must meet high require-
ments. Do they conserve the values of personal com-
munion with the Father of spirits, the assurance of
divine assistance in human progress, the confidence that
moral achievement of this life is continued unto perfec-
tion beyond death?

My own conception of the new theology of Man leads
me to believe that for each of these needs it has a satis-
faction not only equal to the old but, taking into ac-

Charles H. Lynle 29

count the critical realism of the modern mind, greater
and better than the old. There are some humanists, to
be sure, to whom such needs seem to be evidence of hu-
man weakness, evidence of the dis-service to moral and
intellectual self-reliance performed by the old doctrines.
They might go so far as to assert that the mere confes-
sion of such needs is a symptom of moral parasitism, or
sentimental self-indulgence or a sense of inferiority
which has fed too long upon the opiates of credulity and
needs correctives of a stern sort if character is to be pro-
duced worthy of such communion, such progress, such
immortality. If I regarded religion simply as a set of
opinions regarding the unseen, I might share such skep-
ticism. I consider true religion, however, and its usual
expression in church attendance and membership as an
extremely important practical factor in right education
and right environment ; and I am concerned therefore to
answer in theological language this theological query
concerning the new conceptions of God and personal
existence after death. I believe I can best present my
convictions on the subject by using a very remarkable
passage in Lord Morley's "Rousseau" a passage quite
plainly autobiographical. John Morley, you will re-
call, went up from Oxford to London in 1860 to com-
mence his journalistic career with the utilitarianism oi
J. S. Mill strong upon him; then in London he was ex-
posed to Positivism, Herbert Spencer's philosophy of
evolution, the agnosticism of Huxley, the materialism
of Tyndall. This conflict between theology and science
prompted him to study a similar phenomenon in France
of the eighteenth century, for the clarification of his
own and others' thought; and so his lives of Rousseau
and Voltaire are rather transparently autobiographical.
The following passage seems to me of especial relevance
to the questions we are now considering :

30 Humanist Sermons

"Those who have the religious imagination struck by the aw-
ful procession of Man from the region of impenetrable night,
by his incessant struggle with the hardness of the material
world, and his sublimer struggle with the hard world of his own
egotistic passions ; by the pain and sacrifice by which generation
after generation has added some small piece to the temple of
human freedom, and some new fragment to the ever incomplete
sum of human knowledge, or some fresh line to the types of
strong and beautiful character those who have an eye for
this may indeed have no ecstasy and no terror, no heaven or
hell in their religion, but they will have abundant moods of
reverence, deep-seated gratitude and sovereign pitifulness. One
whose conscience has been strengthened from youth in this faith
can have no greater bitterness than the stain cast by wrong act
or unworthy thought on the high memories with which he has
been used to walk, and the discord wrought in hopes which have
become the ruling harmony of his days."

You see how Lord Morley has, on the strength of his
own religious experience, replaced certain old terms of
religion by new. Worship of a personal God becomes
"reverence" for Humanity's noblest sons and their vic-
tories; thanksgiving to God becomes gratitude to Hu-
manity; charity becomes "pitifulness" a beautiful
word, deserving like "fellow-feeling," wider currency.
The new moral sanction is loyalty to the "high mem-
ories" of spiritual fellowship and to the hopes he enter-
tains of human progress, to be promoted, among other
means, by each individual's fidelity to his finest scruples.
It is obvious, of course, that the glooms and glees of such
religious transformations as those of Augustine or
Luther or Wesley are wanting in Morley; but the idea
of the holy is there, and the tree brought forth good
fruit in abundance during the illustrious career of the
great Liberal statesman "Honest John," whose life
motto seems to have been: "The nobler a soul is, the
more objects of compassion it hath."

Repeatedly Lord Morley in his writing refers to these

Charles H. Lyttle 31

"high memories" of spiritual fellowship, memories cc of
the true and sage spirits who have toiled upon earth."
I am reminded of Emerson's promise to the American
scholar of frontier days: "Patience, patience, with the
shades of all the great and good for company/' May it
not be that the element of personal communion and in-
spiration in religion will in the future be derived from
this sense of affinity with the noblest of mankind past
and present whose spirit draws us into reverent dis-
cipleship and whose teachings and examples direct us to
the highest good? This possibility is the more signifi-
cant because the ultimate argument for the attribution
of moral goodness to the Supreme Principle of the uni-
verse has always and inevitably been the demonstrable
existence of great-hearted and pure-lived men and
women on earth. By this very argument, in Morley's
own time, John Fiske was retrieving theistic faith and
ethics from the evolutionary doctrines of the day; by
this very argument Hutcheson kindled the soul of the
young Channing in revolt against French materialism;
by this very argument, but a few years before, Kant in
his "Religion within the Bounds of Pure Reason" was
providing his categorical imperative with a God, a sense
of piety, a church, an apostolate, an apocalyptic. Again
and again the demonstrable existence of noble men and
women in history has been used as a culminating proof
of the moral perfections and government of God. Nowa-
adays we do not care to skip so nimbly from data to
deduction; many of us feel more sure of the cloud of
witnesses that reading and revery and friendship give
us than of the Witnesser in the clouds which the old the-
ologies go on to assert. To live in the spiritual fellow-
ship of the cloud of witnesses, to run the race of life
with their patience and good cheer, to continue their
efforts to redeem life for others is for many of us the

32, Humanist Sermons

practical equivalent of the olden worship and mysti-
cism. To render oneself as worthyas possible of the trust
and friendship of some saint and hero one deeply
reverences is a very practical source of lofty inspiration
and moral restraint. And when our energy flags and our
enthusiasm grows weary in well-doing, and we are
tempted to wonder if, after all, our exertions for the
amelioration of life's evil may not be in direct defiance
of nature's plan and her giant forces, there is great com-
fort and encouragement in the thought of this unending
relay of spiritual comradeship and cooperation through
the ages. There is a power that makes for the progress
of righteousness, forever incarnating itself in earnest
men and women; defeat and. martyrdom have not
availed to extinguish it! Why should we not trust it
and carry the great work forward to the hands of those
who will surely be raised up to succeed us?

"All hail the unknown ones,
All hail the divine,
Whom we grope after darkly
And fain would resemble,
In whose good we believe
Because good is in man."

Faith, then, still has its sustenance, and the devotion-
al spirit its object in the new religious dispensation. Let
us now consider the way in which the values of the old
belief in the persistence of the moral personality after
death are conserved by the growing tendency to localize
the divine immanence in Humanity. We all know that
the acutest intellectual exigencies of a modern-minded
minister of religion come at the graveside. How can I
keep clean of hypocrisy and yet bring comfort to these
stricken hearts who crave oil for the wounds of their be-
reavement, not salt? Ought I tell them I have no con-
fidence that they will ever meet their loved ones again?

Charles H. Lyttle 33

By many it is thought that a minister of religion who
has no conviction with which to out-sing the thudding
of clods upon a coffin is disqualified for his vocation.
On the other hand, he would be unworthy of his calling
if he desecrated such a moment by an unctuous insin-
cerity. Have we any reason to suppose that human
nature will demand less emotional consolation from re-
ligion as times goes on, or that the emotional need will
not assert what satisfies it to be absolute rather than
pragmatic truth? Well, who would have dreamed a
hundred years ago that death would presently be shorn
of half its terrors and anguish by the discovery of an-
aesthetics and the disappearance of the fear of the judg-
ment and hellfire? Within a century the demands upon
religious consolation made by illness and death have
greatly decreased, and we know not what another
century may bring to pass. I presume most of us nowa-
days crave chiefly the assurance that, beyond the veil we
shall not be separated from those we loved here and lost
awhile; and that no life which has been blighted here
shall fail of beautiful fulfillment hereafter. My convic-
tion is that there are grounds for a belief in the per-
sistence of life's moral values and its noble relationships
which, without doing violence to realistic principles,
makes blank negation unwarranted. The formulation
of this belief awaits profounder investigation of the
transient and permanent, the biological and cultural de-
terminants of personality than we have yet had, as well
as deeper explorations of the unconscious realm of the
mind. But certain simple reflections which any one
might make still claim authority. It is evident that we
are all children of Humanity, our eternal parent, whose
fecundity seems undepleted, notwithstanding the in-
numerable generations of men already brought forth on
the earth. All the spiritual values of life, all the moral

34 Humanist Sermons

excellence of mature personality, all the fine potentiali-
ties of frustrated lives are seminal in her streaming ener-
gies. All the virtues which constitute large and lovable
character are implicit in that prior parental source from
which the multitudes of the future will derive their
origin. We may be sure there will follow us (brethren
of our very being, sharers of our total nature, perfect
replicas of all our supposedly private and exclusive
traits and moral propensities) countless men and women
who will differ from us only in so far as our creative
idealism has bequeathed to them better customs, laws,
institutions, science, culture and religion than those
which educated us. It is wise and meet for us, therefore,
in our brief day of life, to spend little time hoarding our
personal identity from the leveling and erasing power of
death; but to be diligent to nourish in ourselves, and to
evoke from others, those grand magnanimities upon
which all spiritual union is founded; and through the
growing prevalence of love and pity, truth and honor
in the world to gain a sufficient immortality for life's
dearest values. Through the medium of such endeavors,
what now is excellent will be made permanent; hearts'
loves will meet us again in every perpetuation of mu-
tual ideals directed toward the future's nobler morale.

"And thus forever with a wider span
Humanity o'erarches time and death,
Man can elect the universal man,
And live in life that ends not with his breath,
And gather glory that increases still
Till Time his glass with death's last dust shall fill."

I hope I have made clear the grounds of my convic-
tion that no genuine moral and spiritual values will pass
from religion when the humanist heterodoxy of today
reaches general acceptance in years to come. It is an old
fear, periodically recurring in history, and receiving but

Charles H. Lyttle 35

slight vindication. If we could again imagine ourselves
at 100 B. C., we should find that early Christianity
seemed to the pagan world a stern, merciless body of
doctrine, far removed from the genial laxities of poly-
theism, which had no decalogue, no puritanical god-
man, no ascetic requirements, no threat of judgment
day, no prospect of endless torment for the weak and
faulty. So much that was dear and gracious seemed
about to be swept away the ancestral effigies behind
the household altar, the family festivals and memorial
funeral feasts, the iridescent ritual of the white-pillared,
gold-roofed temples, the gracious benignities of a host
of human-hearted gods ; and in the place of these help-
ful amenities, such a harsh doctrine as the eternal sep-
aration of husband from wife, mother from child, broth-
er from sister over a question of belief in a preposterous
story of a resurrected miracle-monger ! Yet such are the
sacrifices that ethical evolution demands of religion
from age to age ! How Calvinism shocked and repelled
Tudor England at first ! Yet, as time went on, piety as-
similated the new ethical probity, theology came to
terms with sentiment and art, and the fuller Truth ap-
peared, reviving much of the loveliness and tolerance
which presumably had disappeared forever. We need
have no fear that a religious philosophy whose ethical
emphasis is so explicitly upon human responsibility for
a perfectly humane society, in which the individual may
be heir to richest opportunity, and the brotherhood of
Man be changed from doctrine to reality, will do aught
but enhance the dignity of moral personality and guard
the sacredness of human love and hope.

Ill

THE FAITH OF HUMANISM

CURTIS W. REESE

Secretary Western Unitarian Conference
Chicago

Curtis W. Reese

JLHERE is a large element of faith in all re-
ligion. Buddhism has faith in the inexorable laws of
Karma ; Mohammedanism in the unyielding will of Al-
lah; Confucianism in the moral nature of Heaven;
Christianity in the love of God ; and Humanism in man
as the measure of values.

There is a large element of faith in all philosophy.
Idealists have faith in eternal values ; Realists in the ob-
jective reality of facts; Naturalists in an inner survival
urge ; and Pragmatists in the workableness of truth.

There is a large measure of faith in all science. Faith
in the orderliness of nature and in man's mind to com-
prehend it makes science possible. There could be no
science if we began with chaos on the part of the uni-
verse and incompetency on the part of man.

There is a large element of faith in all human rela-
tions. The foundations of government, the warp and
woof of economic relations, and especially the very
structure of the home, partake in large measure of the
nature of faith. *

Hypotheses, postulates, and assumptions in their
proper realm are comparable to faith in the realm of re-
ligion. In this way I speak of the faith of Humanism.

39

40 Humanist Sermons

Competent philosophers, scientists, and even the-
ologians, regard working assumptions as tentative.
They constantly check for error; they diligently gather
new data and re-examine the old generalizations in the
light of the new facts. They welcome criticism and ver-
ification from competent persons. Their faith is con-
sciously experimental. And it is thus with the faith of
the Humanist.

Humanism aims to comprehend man in his total set-
ting; to know him as a child of the cosmos, as the
individual member of the human group, and as the par-
ent of civilizations yet to be. It sets as its definite goal,
not knowledge for its own sake but knowledge as a
means to the enrichment of human life. Here it attacks
its problems with evangelical fervor and summons to its
cause all knowledge, all faith, all hope, and all love.

Let us sketch the faith of Humanism in broad outline
and see what it has to offer.

In the first place, Humanism has faith in the trust-
worthiness of the scientific spirit and method; viz.,
freedom of inquiry and controlled experiment. Funda-
mentalism is skeptical of science; Modernism merely
flirts with science; but Humanism says that, while
science may give us inadequate knowledge, it gives all
we have and we must make the most of it. Upon science
and the legitimate inferences from its established facts
we are dependent for our knowledge of the nature of the
universe, of the evolution of life, and of man's prowess
and possibilities. And how stimulating yet sobering it
is to contemplate the universe of modern science !

(1) With the destruction of the old cosmologies
went many a man's sense of being at home in the uni-

Curtis W* Reese 41

verse. For vast multitudes the very foundations of the
deep were shaken. The ships of the mighty went down,
and only the skiffs of the tough-minded remained afloat.
Hence the first task of any religion today is to face with
utter frankness the cosmic situation that confronts the
modern mind; to marshal such evidence as modern
science reveals, examine and evaluate it, and determine
to what extent it upholds human hopes.

The revelations of science have given us not a smaller
but a bigger universe ; not a simpler but a more complex
universe ; not a poorer but a richer universe.

(2) Astronomically, the old universe was a child's
plaything; the new is immense beyond description. Es-
timates of competent authorities present startling fig-
ures. From one side of the earth's orbit in a straight line
to the other is 185,000,000 miles. It would take a can-
non ball five hundred years to go in a straight line from
one side of our solar system to the other. The earth
travels around the sun 580,000,000 miles a year. The
volume of the sun is one million times greater than the
earth. But these figures are only introductory, for they
belong to our little solar system. Our sun is a star; and
the universe contains millions more, many of which
may have their own planetary systems. The nearest
star to our earth is four light years; i. e., twenty-four
trillion miles away; and some of the most distant stars
three hundred light years; i. e., three hundred times six
trillion miles. A ray of light traveling 186,000 miles
a second would require fifty thousand years to travel
from one side of our universe to the other. And, won-
der of wonders, it is thought by reputable astronomers
that there are still other universes outside our restricted
universe, which constitute a super-universe; and that
many super-universes constitute an hyper-super-uni-
verse, etc.

42 Humanist Sermons

(3) For the sake of completeness, one might also
mention in contrast with the infinitely large the infinite-
ly little, the universe of the atom with its whirling elec-
trons. But mere mention is sufficient for our present
purpose. While neither mere bigness nor mere littleness
constitutes value, still we may well consider the delicate
balance and super- wisdom of it all/and add this to our
faith that human aspirations are grounded in reality.

(4) Coming nearer home, consider the evidence of
geological knowledge. Scientific authorities estimate
that life has been on this globe a thousand million years
and that the age of the earth itself is some small multi-
ple of a thousand million. They show how age after
age this whirling globe has picked up stray matter;
brought forth the germ of life; and how life has been
fruitful and multiplied manifold, producing species of
wondrous complexity and marvellous intelligence.

(5) In a most impressive way, the late Jenkins Lloyd
Jones once vividly outlined a scale of the vast epochs of
the world's history. Borrowing the suggestion and a
part of Dr. Jones' collection of facts, I have laid out the
creative periods on a scale of one hundred units. On
this scale, it takes fifty units to represent the growth of
the earth in what Haeckel styled the "tangled forest"
period, during which the only vegetation was in the
water and the only animals the skulless creatures of
the sea. We add thirty-three and one-half units for the
period in which ferns appeared on land and fishes in the
deep ; eleven units for the period in which pines and rep-
tiles appeared ; four units for the period when the mam-
mals appeared and the young were brought forth alive
and the period of infancy prolonged the period of
leafed forests, of birds and animals. Bringing the scale
up to the present time, we add one and one-half units to
represent the modern period during which man has ap-

Curtis W. Reese 43

peared and has begun to assume his responsibility in the
creative process.

In man, then, is the fruitage of what Aristotle called
"the inner perfecting principle," of what Lamarck
called "the slow wishing of the animals," of what Dar-
win called "natural selection." In him is the fruitage
of age-long mother love, paternal care, and communal
life ; of an age-long struggle to liberate the fore limbs,
to swing hands on flexible wrists, and to develop the
throat to the point of speech.

Then this small fraction of the ages that man has oc-
cupied on the earth may itself be subdivided into units
of time, as is done by James Harvey Robinson, so that
on a scale of fif ty units civilized man occupies only the
last unit. At the very apex of nature's achievements
stands modern man. Back of him and underneath him
are the positive forces of life urging him on and on to
greater achievements. The ages gone look up to him;
ages yet to come beckon him onward.

Man is fortunate in that he is the heir of ages past;
he is promising in that he is the parent of ages yet to be.

And so scientific knowledge gives strength to the
wings of the poet : "What a piece of work is man ! How
noble in reason ! how infinite in faculty ! in form and
moving, how express and admirable ! in action how like
an angel ! in apprehension, how like a god !"

II

In the second place, Humanism has faith in the ca-
pacity of man increasingly to understand the universe
and his place in it.

( 1 ) It is true that we do not know very much about
any one of the many things that call from the depths of
the atom, or from the immensities of space. We do not

44 Humanist Sermons

know what life is, nor how a bit of protoplasm carries
within it the potentialities that subsequent develop-
ment proves to be there.

But however inadequate may be man's capacity to
understand the universe, there is no other vessel of in-
formation. There is no valid oracle of knowledge.
There is no verified revelation of reality. There is no
yoga-short-cut to wisdom. Man by means of his own
science must unravel the skein of existence if he would
weave the fabric of knowledge.

Admitting our lack of information, it is still true that
man has demonstrated his capacity to understand with
increasing accuracy and clearness the nature of his
world and of his relation to it.

(2) Consider to what extent knowledge has grown.
It is a long journey from primitive man's capacity to
understand that one thing added to another thing made
two things to the intricacies of Relativity and the
quantum theory; from alchemy to creative chemistry;
from astrology to astronomy; from the ancient medicine
man to the modern physician and surgeon; from impul-
sive impression to inferential logic; from magic to
science ; from individual government with a club to the
nations' representatives in conclave at Geneva. But the
journey has been made.

(3) The people at large have not until recently un-
derstood what marvels of knowledge have been piling
up. Heretofore, information has not been popularized.
But now expert authorities are putting information
within reach of all, and the avidity with which it is
grasped evidences the capacity of great numbers to un-
derstand complex matters when stated in terms with
which they are acquainted. Valuable service of this
kind is being rendered by E. E. Slosson. Consider also
"Why We Behave Like Human Beings" by George A.

Curtis W. Reese 45

Dorsey; "Microbe Hunters" by Paul de Kmif ; "Psy-
chology Lectures-in-Print" by Everett Dean Martin;
and "The Story of Philosophy" by Will Durant.

(4) It is thought by some philosophers that we are
actually nearing the solution of the age-old body-mind
problem. And certainly the current tendency to lay
aside both the materialistic and the animistic hypothe-
ses in favor of the organic theory of the nature of life
points in this direction. Some scientists believe that we
are nearing the understanding of the very nature of life
itself. And capable experimenters are placing their in-
struments at the very gate of death. These doors may
never be opened. But in view of man's past record in
prying into the unknown, it is a daring man who will
predict that any doors are closed forever.

Ill

In the third place, Humanism has faith in the ability
of man increasingly to achieve the possibilities inherent
in the nature of man and the universe.

(1) In his control of nature's modes of operation,
man is skillful and masterful. As an everyday affair he
makes power that was once thought to dwell only
among the clouds, and to be the exclusive possession of
the gods. From the depths of the earth he brings forth
riches untold. The physical world is beginning to do
man's bidding. Not less wonderful is man's under-
standing of psychological laws. We are beginning to
know how to predict and compel results. We now know
thajt within certain limits public opinion ancl public con-
science are subject to human control.

As man learns more and more about nature's proc-
esses both physical and psychological he learns that
human intelligence is a co-worker with nature.

46 Humanist Sermons

(2) In his origination and development of moral
ideas, man is wise and far-seeing. As man has needed
moral ideas for his advancement, he has achieved them.
Moral ideas have never been handed down from heaven
in systematized code, though such has been thought to
be the origin of both the Hammurabic and the Mosaic
codes. When man needed the moral idea of private
property, he achieved it; then he who took that which
belonged to another became a thief. When man needed
the moral idea of communal property, he achieved it;
then he who thrived by monopoly became a social para-
site. When man needed the moral idea of the sacredness
of human life, he achieved it ; then he who killed an-
other became a murderer. Man achieves his moral ideas ;
and when he gets done with them he replaces them with
more and better ones.

Man has originated moral ideas that were for the
good of tribes and races, and has developed them with
far-seeing wisdom. What he has done, he will continue
to do. I have no fear of the final moral breakdown of
the world. Ideas and customs hoary with age may be
thrown in the scrap heap of time, but the race will de-
velop more and better.

(3) In his creation of spiritual values, man is hope-
ful and prophetic. Man achieves his spiritual values
because he feels the need for them. He feels that he
wants to secure more power in the pursuit of the good
life. Hence, he has followed teachers who have pro-
claimed the more abundant life ; he has made religions,
and has evolved magic and prayer. Out of the inex-
haustible soul of man, in response to his needs, have
come forth gods and devils, angels and demons, heavens
and hells. These man has made at his will and destroyed
when he would. Other values innumerable has he
brought out of the depths of his being, personified and

Curtis W. J$ee/e 47

sent them forth to battle in his behalf. These spiritual
creations of man are so real that they die hard. Aye,
they refuse to die until put to death by some greater
spiritual creation.

But man's past achievements are only preparatory.
They have merely opened his eyes to the greater possi-
bilities of the future. In his power to dream dreams and
to see visions, man is potentially the creator of nobler
things yet to be.

IV

In the fourth place, Humanism has faith in the possi-
bility and the nobility of a mutualistic social order.

( 1 ) The past in social theory has been divided large-
ly between two views of the nature of proper social ar-
rangements, botfy of which have been intolerant and
bigoted. These views may be called, roughly : individ-
ualism, on the one hand, and socialism on the other.
There are numerous varieties of each, but for general
purposes we may say that individualism is the theory of
trusting to social and economic laws that are supposed
to make for and preserve private interests. In practice,
this means the chance arrangement of social affairs. It is
laissez-faire : that is, let things take care of themselves.
It is the policy of non-interference of the social whole
with its parts. Individualism at its best is good-natured
rivalry; at its worst, it is social anarchy. And its strong-
est inclination is in the latter direction !

(2) Socialism, on the other hand, is the dogma of
the relentless operation of economic determinism, of
class conflict, and of cataclysmic events. It is the tyran-
ny of the many over the few. It is doctrinaire. It fits
facts into theories instead of evolving theories out of
facts. It is political "fundamentalism." There is no
social salvation outside its pale.

Humanist Sermons

Both of these theories are political blind alleys.

(3) But mutualism embraces whatever is valid in
individualism and in socialism. Giving full value to
the individualistic impulses of human nature, mutual-
ism recognizes the social impulses as well. It finds in
natural life, not only the struggle for personal well-be-
ing but also mutual assistance.

In practical operation, mutualism is experimental
democracy. Its plans are mobile. It is genuinely scien-
tific; it says let us try this thing and see how it works.

Humanism holds that the religion that would be use-
ful in this new day must be neither individualistic nor
socialistic, but mutualistic. It must seek to weave the
best personal values into a noble social order. It can-
not preach a gospel that is purely personal nor one that
is purely social ; it must preach a gospel that will help
to balance personal and social impulses to the end that
individual man shall experience within himself the har-
mony of his impulses, and mankind be organized for the
harmonious development of all the races of the world.
Such a religion is now finding expression here and there
among all churches and all religions, and in the lives of
many who are not associated with any religious move-
ment.

Humanism is bringing into the light of day a religion
of, by, and for the whole man and the whole world.

IV
THEISM AND HUMANISM

E. STANTON HODGIN

First Congregational Society Unitarian
New Bedford, Massachusetts

Hiimanism

E. Stanton Hodgin

V-XANST THOU by searching find out God?
Canst thou find out the Almighty unto perfection?"
Such has been the quest of man from the beginning
the search for a god of perfection. Man has wanted to
feel that events are controlled and directed by a divini-
ty whose acts are faultless, who is all powerful and to
whom man may appeal for strength and guidance.

Biblical literature grew out of the belief that Jeho-
vah was such a being and that world events were in his
keeping. If Jehovah were such a divinity we should ex-
pect that the relationship between the Creator and his
creatures would be one of constant serenity and felici-
tous tranquillity.

How keen is our surprise and how bitter our disap-
pointment to find that the god portrayed in the Old
Testament pages is capricious, cruel, intolerant, re-
vengeful and self-centered. He is constantly guilty of
acts we should condemn in ordinary men and women.
He is either helpless in the presence of the calamities of
nature or uses them to satisfy his selfish desires. Be-
tween him and his creatures is continual strife and con-
flict, instead of the tranquillity and serenity we should
expect.

52 Humanist Sermons

We are then told that the Jehovah of the Old Testa-
ment is only primitive man's conceptions of god and we
cannot expect to find there the real divinity for which
we are searching.

We turn to the New Testament. There we are told
that god is not only all wise and all powerful, but is a
just, loving, compassionate and forgiving father. We
feel that we are nearer the goal now, but what is our
consternation and disappointment to find that when
this divinity is invoked in the hour of greatest need, the
voice of the pleader returns unto itself void, and he
perishes miserably, although maintaining his faith un-
shaken to the last moment and, so far as in his power
lay, exemplifying in his own conduct just such a divin-
ity as he proclaimed as existing and being available to
men of faith.

Surely a being that could not intervene at such a time
is not all powerful, and one that would not is not just
and loving and compassionate. Why pray when there is
no evidence that any answer ever comes back, save the
psychological reaction of one's own faith ?

Again, we are told that even the New Testament sets
forth only man's conceptions of divinity, much nobler
than those of the Old Testament, but still imperfect.

If we would find the real god we must search for him
ourselves find him in the realities that are revealed in
the records of science and history. We turn from the
theological god to the god of evolution. Surely there
can be no delusion here. If there is reality anywhere it
must be in the hard facts of the world life that press
upon us continually. Turning from theology to science
we are first of all impressed by the contrasts between the
two. How time stretches out from a very few thousands
of years in one conception to millions upon millions
of years in the other. How very personal god is in

E. Stanton Hodgin 53

the one, appearing simply as a larger man; how imper-
sonal or superpersonal in the other, moving through the
silent invisible forces of nature; how capricious in one,
described as subject to moods, changeable and unde-
pendable; in the other manifest as inexorable and in-
variable, always working through changeless law.

Before our astonishment at the unlikenesses of the
two has subsided, we are still more astonished at their
similarities, so far as results are concerned. The bibli-
cal narrative after all, in its very fragmentary and per-
sonal way, seems to be a foreshadowing of the great
onsweeping story that science and history are telling us
today.

The evolutionary power was occupied for untold
ages in bringing forth the inanimate world, preparing it
for life, and peopling it with varied inhabitants.

The story of man's relationship to the evolutionary
power that brought him forth has been quite as tragic as
the relationship between Jehovah and man as set forth
in the bible. Again and again has the pitiless evolu-
tionary force brought down floods, storms, cold, heat,
drouth and countless calamities upon the defenseless
heads of innocent men, often sweeping whole races out
of existence, leaving only here and there a remnant to
propagate its kind. The Jewish story of the flood has
been duplicated many times in the story of evolution as
related by science and history, and the god of evolution
has not been more tender or sympathetic toward the suf-
ferings of humanity than the god of Noah. Nature
always seems to be setting traps for man, placing temp-
tations in his way and luring him on to his destruction.
Nature supplies us with appetites, passions and desires,
apparently to guide us, and yet when we follow them
unrestrainedly they bring disaster upon us.

The child is born into a Garden of Eden in which

54 Humanist Sermons

everything is provided for him relieving him of all
care and anxiety. To the child everything about him is
beautiful and perfect. All he asks is to be allowed to
give himself to it without reserve. He has no fear, and
his impulse is to rush toward everything with perfect
confidence. The sight of fire fills him with ecstacy and
like the moth, if not restrained, he will rush into it and
be consumed. So it is with all the many objects that at-
tract him; they will bump him, bruise him and destroy
him if he gives himself to them in obedience to the in-
stincts and impulses nature has implanted within him.
He soon becomes as shrinking and fearful as he was
trusting and bold. He has been cast out of his Eden
and for no fault of his own. He soon learns that the
beautiful world, instead of being a beneficent garden, is
full of pitfalls and that the forces about him that
appear so attractive will destroy him unless he ap-
proaches them in exactly the right way.

Nature, or the evolutionary power, has differentiated
the human family into varied races with different
colored skins, different shaped heads and different lan-
guages, and among them there is prejudice, enmity,
strife, hatred and warfare continually, preventing them
from working together. How similar in results to that
described as having taken place at the Tower of Babel.
True it was not brought about in a day in a spectacular
way by the miraculous intervention of a personality; it
was thousands of years in coming about, but the out-
come is almost identical, and the problem as difficult to
meet in the one case as in the other.

So runs the whole story. Evolution does not make
life one whit less tragic than the bible. The forces of
evolution strike down thousands of innocent as the re-
sult of one guilty person's acts, the same as is related of
Pharaoh and David. For example, one guilty or care-

E. Stanton Hodgin 55

less person may spread a disease that will destroy thou-
sands of innocent people and the heart of the god of
evolution is untouched by it. One or two kings or rulers
may precipitate a great world war in which countless
millions of innocents suffer, and the god of evolution
does not intervene. The god of evolution is no more an
affectionate and loving father than is the god of
Joshua, or of David.

"Canst thou by searching find out God? Canst thou
find out the Almighty unto perfection?" No researches
of man reveal to him perfection anywhere. Everything
is complex. Neither the bible nor science nor history
reveals to man a perfect god operating perfectly
through world events. We can find no father and friend
whose aid can be invoked in special ways. We are left
to struggle with the pitiless world forces in our own
way to master them or to be mastered by them in ac-
cordance with the power and guidance we are able to
develop within ourselves.

At first we may feel completely bereft; as if our last
and only reliance had been taken from us. It is the feel-
ing of loss and desolation that comes to man whenever
he is compelled to shift the basis of his faith, but which
invariably passes and is replaced by a more satisfying
assurance if he resolutely accepts the evidence and
makes the best of it. Where, then, are we to look for
that which our hearts crave and which will bring us a
reasonable degree of peace, serenity and satisfaction of
soul? "Now journey inward to thyself, and listen by
the way." It is for man to supply in his own life that
which he finds to be wanting everywhere else. No great-
er tribute can possibly be paid to man than the recog-
nition that it is for him to fulfill in himself that which
finds fulfillment nowhere else and in this achievement
find compensation and peace.

56 Humanist Sermons

Man must be just, loving, affectionate and merciful
for the very reason that justice, love, mercy and affec-
tion are found operating nowhere else save in the hu-
man heart. Thus man fulfills that which finds fulfill-
ment nowhere else. If man in "searching to find out
God" could find an all-wise, all-just and all-loving per-
sonality operating in and directing world affairs apart
from himself and his fellows, then there would be no
need of his own existence. Such a being would fulfill all
and achieve all within himself and there would be no
place for man. Man must be god to those to whom he is
responsible, as far as in his power lies, for in no other
way than through man can god function in these hu-
man terms of love, sympathy and justice in the world.

In proportion as man ceases to search for or to de-
pend upon a perfect being apart from himself and his
fellows, to establish the reign of love, justice and mercy
in the world, but gives himself to the work of enthron-
ing these qualities in his own heart and in the hearts of
his fellows, will he fulfill his own mission in life, see the
world becoming transformed into what he feels it ought
to be, and experience the peace and satisfaction his soul
craves.

"Sits there no Judge in Heaven our sin to see *?
More strictly than the inner Judge obey.
Was Christ a man like us ? Ah, let us try
If we then, too, can be such men as he !"

An increasing number of people are thus being forced
onto a humanistic basis of faith, at first unwillingly
but eventually finding in it more promise and inspira-
tion than they were ever able to find in the old.

Theism and humanism are not exclusive faiths.
They overlap all the way, but there is a difference of
emphasis and application that makes the religions of the
pronounced theist and the pronounced humanist essen-

E. Stanton Hodgin 57

tially different, even though the one emerges from the
other and is never wholly differentiated from it.

The humanist is not antitheistic; to call him an
atheist is most unjust and betrays the limitations of the
accuser. The humanist believes in god with his whole
mind and heart and soul, but it is increasingly difficult
for him to write the word god with a capital letter. To
him god is much more than the name of a person, as
Washington, Caesar, Socrates and Jesus are names of
persons. God is the reality that gives all life and phe-
nomena its meaning and value is the reality that
stretches up to infinite heights above man and whenever
we comprehend a truth or obey a noble impulse we lay
hold on this reality; we rise to higher levels and experi-
ence an enlargement of moral and spiritual life.

The humanist feels that man can enter into effective
relations with this reality only through his relations to
life and the world phenomena that impinge upon him.
As to what is the ultimate form of this reality he feels
that it is futile to speculate and folly to dogmatize.
Here is the crux of the whole controversy.

The theist also believes in god as the reality that gives
significance and value to life and phenomena, but, what
is of infinitely more importance to him religiously, he
believes in god as a definite personality with whom he
may have direct personal relations, as Richard has with
John, and from whom he may receive direct help and
guidance. This personal relationship is to him the all
important element in religion.

The humanist finds no omnipotent father and friend
upon whom he may call in time of trouble and upon
whom he may rely for help, but he finds thousands
of ways in which a richer and more sustaining friend-
ship and comradeship may be built up in our human
society, and he feels that devotion to the building

5 8 Humanist Sermons

up of such a condition of brotherly love and good will
is the fulfillment of the divine task that life puts upon
him and is his religion. To invoke and awaken the
latent love that lies unused in every human life is the
most fruitful appeal he can make. Furthermore, he
feels that constantly calling upon an omnipotent being
to do his work for him brings confusion and delusion,
and stands in the way of man's effectively building up
the kingdom of heaven out of the materials that are
available all about him, if he but give his attention to
searching them out, mastering them and putting them
to the highest use.

He is convinced that the evidence of history, amply
justifies such conclusions. For a period of a thousand
years after the establishment of Christianity, the
theistic view was supreme. No one doubted man's direct
dependence upon a personal deity and the necessity of
his receiving guidance direct therefrom. All man's ener-
gy was drafted into the building up of those institutions
that were thought to insure direct communion with god
and through which he could function effectively on
earth. Man tried to despise the world life and the
world phenomena about him, feeling that the less his
attention was distracted by world affairs the more re-
ceptive he would be to god's influences. During this
entire period the span of human life diminished ; hatred,
jealousy and all the primitive passions increased their
sway over man and life became constantly more tragic
and insecure. No omnipotent father and friend re-
sponded to the prayers that ascended unceasingly from
the cathedral altars and hearthstones of trusting
peoples.

With the coming of the Renaissance an increasing
number of people began fearfully and hesitatingly to
study the divine forces and processes that were reveal-

E. Stanton Hodgin 59

ing themselves in their own lives and in the world
phenomena about them trying to understand and to
cooperate with them in rational ways.

The tide slowly turned. From that time onward life
has become appreciably richer and more secure to an
ever larger number of people, and this result is clearly
the fruitage of new faith in the world forces, faith in
man's capacity to master them and to find a more abund-
ant life in cooperation with them.

Autocracy and monarchy are in their very nature
theistic. It is the rule of person over persons in the one
case as in the other. A personal god rules through espe-
cially chosen persons kings, czars, kaisers and sultans,
who rule by divine right. All wisdom and guidance
cometh down from above through especially chosen
channels. The chosen channel is the church, the one im-
portant institution which must be maintained to insure
divine guidance. Hence, in all autocracies we find elab-
orately established and lavishly supported state church-
es. They are the bulwark of the autocracy. Schools may
languish, but the church flourishes and it is the church
that speaks with authority.

Democracy is just as inevitably humanistic. Wisdom
and guidance cometh not down from above through es-
pecially chosen channels, but wisdom and guidance
come through all the ways of life, through the intelli-
gence born of the clash of mind on mind, and of minds
grappling with, trying to understand and cooperating
with, the realities round about them.

Our nation committed itself to the humanistic faith
in the beginning, not by proclamation but by its uncon-
scious actions. It reversed the practice of European
countries. They established the church and frowned on
the school, keeping it carefully in subservience to the
ecclesiastical forces. Divine guidance was regarded as of

60 Humanist Sermons

supreme importance, while human wisdom was thought
of as being not only of secondary moment but as often
obscuring and hindering divine revelation.

Our nation followed a diametrically opposite course.
It disestablished the church, letting theology shift for
itself. It in no sense repudiated religion, only declaring
it to be an individual matter and no concern of the state.
In place of the church that it had disestablished, it es-
tablished the school, giving it state aid and authority,
thus making education, human wisdom, knowledge of
the world forces that impinge upon us the bulwark of
national security and stability. This nation thus com-
mitted its life to the humanistic position long before
such a faith was thought of as a religion. As a matter of
fact, religion in its most nascent form is seldom ever
recognized as religion at all. Not until it has lost some
of its incipient power and has crystallized into a self-
conscious theological system is it institutionalized and
given sanctity. Humanism is still too vitally diffused,
too undifferentiated from life to be admitted into the
pantheon.

All Americans are humanists. They find guidance in
the accumulations of knowledge and experience that
mankind has gathered from its contacts with the world
forces and its adjustments to them. Chief reliance is
upon the educational and cultural forces that give en-
lightenment.

A vast majority of Americans are also theists. In ad-
dition to the general body of worldly knowledge and
experience upon which they freely draw for guidance,
they feel that they have access also to a personal divin-
ity from whom they may receive additional guidance of
a higher and more sacred character.

Many hold their theistic faith more or less tentative-
ly and confusedly. They assent to it for traditional

E. Stanton Hodgin 61

and associational reasons. They feel that they have here
something in reserve that cushions them to a certain
extent against the hard realities of life, but it seldom
affects their serious decisions in the important affairs
of life.

Others hold to it with fanatical zeal and so far as in
their power lies would compel everyone to bend the
knee to it. They would reverse the position of the
founders of our nation, would make this nation theistic
in name at least, and would put all education in leading
strings to theology as it was in the centuries of the past.

To many of even the more fanatical theists, their
theological faith is exotic. They bow down to it, render
it obeisance and would compel others to do the same,
would fight for it and willingly die for it, if need be;
but, having done it outward reverence, they turn from
it and guide their lives almost wholly by the same gen-
eral body of worldly knowledge we all draw upon,
freely using and enjoying the fruits of the sciences they
condemn.

Even the churches born of the intense theism of the
Middle Ages and still maintaining the extreme theistic
expressions and forms in their services of worship are
becoming more and more humanistic in character. Cath-
olic and fundamentalist churches no less than modern-
ists are becoming increasingly centers of worldly cul-
ture and discipline upon which the people depend for
guidance in their daily lives rather than upon their
theology.

Humanism thus seems to be gaining almost every-
thing except recognition as a religious faith. Since the
fact remains that humanism is the dominant force in
our modern life, institutional recognition is a matter of
minor importance.

V
CHRISTIANITY AND HUMANISM

E. BURDETTE BACKUS

First Unitarian Church
Los Angeles

E. Burdette Backus

IHE THEME suggests that Christianity is not
the final religion of mankind, but that it will be subject
to that same process of decay that has overtaken the re-
ligions which preceded it. History warns us that it is
the fate of religions, even as it is of men, of trees and of
empires, to pass through all the stages of growth from
birth to maturity and death. There is no reason why
Christianity should prove an exception to the rule.

It is hard for us to accept this as probable, because
we instinctively endow with eternal life anything of
which we ourselves are a part or which is a part of us.
But just as surely as the most ardent devotee of the
most rigid Christian sect of today is certain that his is
the one and only true religion and that it is destined to
endure forever, so were the priests of the religions that
flourished in ancient Babylon and Egypt sure of the
enduring quality of their faiths. Christianity is how
old? Less than 2000 years. Religions have flourished
much longer than that and then vanished from the face
of the earth. The centuries are brief, time is long. To be
sure, Christianity still gives evidence of much vitality.
It numbers millions of adherents, it is wealthy, it is
powerful. Its going will not be sudden. The death of a

65

66 Humanist Sermons

great religion is not a matter of years, but of centuries,
jjes.Jijiilleniumsj but die it will as surely as you and I.
Such is the inexorable rule in this world where nothing
remains steadfast but change.

" ^Ah 9 w you protect, ; a it is true that other religions
have come and gone, but Christianity is different. It is
more widespread than any other religion the world has
ever known, and it has intrinsic merit that none of the
others has possessed. These elements assure us that even
though, as you claim, our religion must suffer the fate
of all things in this world of change, still its dissolution
is so remote that we have no need as yet to be worrying
our heads over what is to come after it." Yes, that is
just another way of saying that Christianity is our reli-
gion and, therefore, perforce, not subject to the same
limitations as the other man's. Let us see.

The conditions which prevail today bear striking
resemblance to those which existed at the time when
Christianity was born. The Christian religion was the
product of the mingling of three most diverse streams,
the ethical monotheism of the Hebrew people, the
philosophy of the Greek world, and the mystery cults
of the Orient. The Jews contributed the Old Testa-
ment, the personality of Jesus and his teaching that all
are the children of one Heavenly Father and, therefore,
brothers who should live in accordance with the spirit
of good will that rules the ideal family. The Greeks
contributed the doctrine of the Logos, the word made
flesh. From the mystery cults came the conception of
Salvation through membership in an elect body, and
many of the forms and ceremonies such as the Eucha-
rist and Baptism. The Roman rule provided the peace
that made possible the commingling of these different
cultural elements and shaped the polity of the new
church.

E. Burdette Backus 67

We see again today, on a world-wide scale, that same
interfusion of diverse cultural elements. This time it is
science instead of Rome that is the agency making it
possible. Science, by means of its inventions that well
nigh annihilate time and space, has hammered the world
into a tiny fragment of its former size. The rapid and
effective means of communication and transportation
have brought the peoples from the ends of the earth into
intimate contact with one another. It would be passing
strange if, out of this new commingling of cultures, a
fresh synthesis did not take place, constituting as much
of a departure from any of the current religions as
Christianity was a departure from the religions that
preceded it. Perhaps it is too early yet to predict the
character of the results of the present world-wide con-
tacts of most diverse peoples, but of one thing we may
be certain and that is that the world of the future will
be vastly different from that of the past.

The second factor in the origin of Christianity which
finds striking parallel in the conditions that prevail to-
day is the breakup of the historic faiths. Men had lost
confidence in their ancient gods. They still retained a
semblance of belief in their deities, but the vitality was
gone from them. The religious yearnings were no longer
satisfied. Men were discontented and were searching in
new and untried ways for something which would meet
the cravings of their minds and hearts. They found it in
the new religion after seeking in vain for satisfaction in
various cults and isms.

We have only to look about us to see that the same
condition prevails today. The old beliefs no longer satis-
fy. There are multitudes for whom the traditional
Christian faith has become impossible. The Scriptures,
once accepted as the infallible and inerrant word of
God, are now increasingly acknowledged to be simply

68 Humanist Sermons

the handiwork of a certain people, religiously gifted,
but having many faults and limitations which reveal
themselves clearly in the pages of the Bible. The sense
of a superiority of this literature lingers, but because its
claims to superiority are not based on true merit they
will gradually disappear. The worth of the Bible has
been vastly overestimated because of the emotional atti-
tude which we have taken towards it. To be sure, it con-
tains fine passages which are worthy of perpetuation
and will doubtless be remembered as long as men de-
light in splendid expressions of noble truths. But these
passages are far fewer than we are wont to think and it
will become increasingly clear to men that the old esti-
mate of the worth of the Bible did not conform to the
facts.

Similarly, Jesus has ceased to be the son of God and
has become either a man or a mythological figure, ac-
cording to the school of thought to which we chance to
belong. As in the case of the Bible, so with him. There
remains the tendency to idealize him and to read into
his figure many things which have their existence only
in our own minds. The human Jesus of the Liberal is
just as unreal as the theological Christ of the Orthodox.
The socially minded Liberal attributes to Jesus those
social principles which are the substance of his own
splendid program of social idealism. I can understand
this tendency to idealize an historic figure and to read
back into it our own present day demands, but it does
not seem to me historically justified and I think that
men are destined to become increasingly aware of the
fact.

A process is now going on which has been termed "de-
bunking" history. Some of it has doubtless overshot the
mark, but on the whole it is a good thing for us to under-
stand that our heroes are, after all, men very much like

Burdette Backus 69

ourselves, sharing our weaknesses and limitations. The
supreme hero of Christian history will have to submit to
this same process. All of the talk about the supremacy
of Jesus is a myth. The plain facts are that we do not
have enough historical material concerning him to write
an account which will give us adequate basis upon
which to form a proper judgment. Such meager material
as we do possess gives much greater warrant for the
Fundamentalist picture of Jesus than for the Modern-
ist. Could we get at the facts I think they would prob-
ably reveal something like this ; that Jesus was a young
man of the best type produced among the Jews, of cou-
rageous idealism and undaunted loyalty to his convic-
tions. But also we should find him possessed of the
limitations of his time, sharing the intellectual outlook
of his contemporaries, giving evidence ever and again of
that frail and fallible human nature which is the heri-
tage of every man born into the world. I can see no rea-
son to think that there have not been many men in the
history of the world who have led just as exemplary,
just as inspiring lives as did the young man of Nazareth.
His unique position in the Christian world is attributa-
ble to the accident of circumstances which singled him
out as the point upon which the idealism innate in man
should concentrate itself, rather than to any unique and
superior virtue in the man himself.

When we turn to the idea of God, again we find that
the thoughts of men are undergoing a change so vast as
to amount to nothing short of a revolution. Belief in
God as a supernatural being is vanishing. I am surprised
at the frequency with which, in my reading, I run across
statements to the effect that the almighty Father and
Ruler of the universe is a dream, a comforting figment
of the imagination. Many people continue to profess a
belief in God because it is good form, but when you

70 Humanist Sermon?

come to press them for a definition of what they mean
by the term, they define it in a way that is very remote
from the traditional conception. For example, the dis-
tinguished Professor Millikan has announced over and
over again in recent months his own belief in God. And
yet, every one who thinks about the matter at all, must
recognize that those vague and vast terms in which Pro-
fessor Millikan conceives God are utterly unsatisfying
to the ordinary religious consciousness that demands a
strong sense of personal providence.

What is the result of all this ? You will find adequate
answer to the question by a glance at the page of church
advertisements in the Los Angeles Saturday Times. The
orthodox churches are competing in their resort to sen-
sationalism to fill their auditoriums; there have sprung
up innumerable sects and cults of all conceivable
sorts, oriental, pseudo-scientific, occult, spiritualistic.
Again there is that feverish search for something which
will satisfy that was characteristic of the Mediterra-
nean world at the beginning of Christianity. And out-
side of the churches of today you will discover a vast
army of persons who are apparently indifferent to reli-
gion and yet many of them far from satisfied with the
answers which they are able to give to life's great
enigmas.

The same situation which exists in Christian lands
exists also in those portions of the earth that are popu-
lated by the adherents of other religions. It has not
always gone as far in the direction of a breakup of the
old as with us. Nonetheless, the same forces are at work
there to produce the same results. Dr. Eustace Haydon,
Professor of the History of Religions at the University
of Chicago, published a series of articles in the Journal
of Religion last winter under the general title of "Mod-
ernism, a World Wide Movement." In these articles he

E. Bur dette Backus 71

showed how all over the world men are awakening to
the realization that their inherited religious conceptions
are utterly out of accord with the teachings of modern
science, and that in all lands they are seeking earnestly
to make that readjustment which will enable them to
express their ancient ideals and aspirations in a form
more nearly in accord with the intellectual habits of
today.

To me the signs are clear that humanity has struck its
tents and is again on the march towards a new religious
faith which I dare to believe will provide us with a reli-
gion greater than Christianity, greater than any of the
historic faiths of the past, though I am keenly aware
that that which I call religion will seem to many earnest
men and women not religion at all, but rather irreligion.

What will be the characteristics of the new faith?
First of all, it will be international, i^ixer^I. The peo-
ples of this round globe of ours are destined to become
one. The forces of science are sure to complete the task
which they have as yet only begun. The conditions of
life around the whole earth are certain to become more
and more alike, as the achievements of science become
the common property of mankind. Our thoughts, also,
will be more nearly the same, because we shall have a
common body of material to work with. This progres-
sive tendency to unity demands that the religion which
attempts to meet the needs of the people must be con-
ceived in universal terms.

This universal religion cannot result simply from the
triumph of any one of the present religions. They all
carry with them too much excess baggage from the past.
Their heritage of errors unfits them for the task of being
the religion of mankind in the days that are ahead. It is
important that we should stress this point, because I
find that many times when one speaks of universal reli-

72 Humanist Sermons

gion one's hearers interpret that in terms of the triumph
of their own particular brand. For example, I attended
recently the service of dedication at the laying of the
cornerstone of a new church. One of the speakers, who
undertook to deal with the relation of the church to
world-wide problems, said that no enduring peace can
come to the world until all the nations of the earth ac-
cept Christ. The speaker is a man of splendid intentions
and high ideals, and yet that very statement betrays the
fact that he is lacking in the imagination which would
enable him to see that one of the greatest obstacles
standing in the way of the realization of the dream of
international peace is just this assumption of superior-
ity on the part of the different religious groups.

To see the thing more clearly, all that is necessary for
us to do is to ask ourselves how a high type of Hindu
like Tagore, or that famous representative of another of
India's great religions, Gandhi, would respond to such
a suggestion. Certainly the Christian nations have given
little evidence to the non-Christian nations that their
acceptance of Christ has led to peace within their own
ranks. So long as we insist that the other peoples of the
world shall renounce their religions and accept our own,
which seems to us the best simply because of the acci-
dent of birth in Christian lands, we cannot expect to
establish that basis of mutual understanding and sym-
pathy which is indispensable to enduring peace. There
is no more reason why Tagore and Gandhi, and the men
of other religions who stand on equally high planes,
should become Christians than there is that Henry Van
Dyke and Shailer Mathews should become Hindus or
Buddhists.

Personally, after long consideration of the problem,
I have reached the point where I repudiate the name
Christian in the interests of a religion which I believe to

E. Burdette Backus 73

be greater than Christianity. There are many who insist
that this universal religion of which I am speaking is
simply a further evolution of Christianity itself and
that, therefore, we ought to retain the name. But there
are certain points in the evolutionary process where the
thing evolving ceases to be what it was and becomes
something different. Man is very different from the
monkey, though he may have sprung from the same
stock. When Christianity becomes so broad as to include
the Jew and the Mohammedan without asking him to
renounce his religion, it has evolved to the point where
it is no longer Christianity but a new religion. I am con-
vinced that more is to be gained than will be lost in re-
nouncing the old name.

All over the world today there are men, who are the
products of the different religious systems of the past,
who are saying to themselves, the important thing
about me is not that I am a Jew, a Christian, a Moham-
medan, a Buddhist, a Parsee, but that I am a human
being, yearning to express my life in more of goodness,
beauty, truth and love; to be a better man and to serve
my fellows more fully. As such, I belong to a fellowship
that is greater than that of any religion that has ever
existed. I am a member of the Church Universal that is
yet to be; a worshipper in the Temple of Humanity, not
yet builded, but building. In that temple all men who
love, all who aspire, all who strive to think clearly and
act nobly shall know themselves as one. To that fellow-
ship all the universal spirits of the past, not those of my
own tradition only, but of all the world, have belonged,
and into its unseen temple their lives have gone as build-
ing stones. Into it there is wrought the strength and wis-
dom of Moses, of Buddha, of Confucius, of Zoroaster,
of Mohammed, of Socrates, and of Jesus, and of all the
other men of their spirit who have walked on earth.

74 Humanist Sermons

The second characteristic of the new religion will be
in its different attitude towards the matter of theology.
Will it require a belief in God? I think not. Personally,
I am inclined^ to be somewhat of a mystic. I nnd a qual-
ity in the universe that is akin to myself; the quality
that manifests itself in order, in beauty, i|i creative ac-
tivity, in love. And I like to call this God.VHowever, it
does not disturb me in the least that other .men come to
different conclusions and feel that the "facts compel
them to describe the world and all things in it entirely
in terms of blind force and matter. Men of equal intelli-
gence and uprightness of character come to widely dif-
fering conclusions, and the religion of the future will
not demand uniformity of belief even to the extent of
insisting on a profession of faith in God. Doubtless,
men in the future will go on trying to solve the riddle
of the universe as they have in the past. But religion
will not be theocentric, God-centered; rather, it will be
homocentric^man^

The heart ^FirwIIT^r&e determination to establish
a human purpose as the guiding principle of life on this
planet. Up until the present time we have stumbled
along, guided only by an unconscious and fragmentary
purpose to make life more satisfactory. This purpose
has been defeated over and over again because we have
thought that it could not be accomplished; because we
have not had confidence enough in our own powers to
bend the circumstances of life to our will. We have
sought refuge too frequently in other-worldliness, seek-
ing compensation for the hardships and failures of this
life in the dreams of another life that has its existence
only in our imagination. We must brush aside all these
things which have defeated the human purpose and con-
sciously set as our goal the establishment of an order of
life which will give to all of the children of men as full

E. Burdette Backus 75

satisfaction as is humanly possible. The concern of the
religion of the future will be with human values, the
enrichment of character, of personality, the creation of
beauty, the discovery of truth.

I sometimes make the whole thing clear to myself by
likening religion to the service which is rendered by the
Child Guidance Clinic of our own city. There the serv-
ice of specialists in various lines of the Social Sciences is
brought to bear on the problems of the maladjusted
child to straighten out his tangled life and provide him
with an opportunity to make a much fuller use of his
inherent powers. In the same way, but on a much grand-
er scale, the religion of the future will consist in bring-
ing all the resources of knowledge, skill, and power of
which humanity is possessed to the solution of those
problems which stand in "the way of a life that is rich
&53: full and satisfying to men.

In the place of the theological requirements of the
past, the new religion will make Ipy^^dfimauods upon
its members. The fust, is that they shall maintain the
scientific attitude. That is, that they shall have the open
mind, be seekers after the truth, not betrayed into think-
ing that is swayed by passion and personal desire, but,
so far as is humanly possible, accepting the authority of
evidence and facing the facts unafraid. The second re-
quirement will be that each man shall know himself to
be a member of the great community of majakmd wd
shall feel that, his ,every act must, be m accord with th^
well-being of that larger life of which he is a part* Of
course, we are not going to exclude any one because he
does not exemplify either one or both of these require-
ments in their perfection; but this is the ideal which we
shall hold ever before the eyes of men and to which we
shall demand their allegiance.

I like to call this new religion, which I have been

76 Humanist Sermons

describing, the Religion of Humanity, because its out-
look is human, its purpose is human, its motives are
human. It is identified with human life in its widest
ranges. It is a religion that sanctifies this world. Under
its teaching, the bust of a Lincoln carved out by the
hand of the gifted sculptor is just as truly religious as
the most inspirational sermon of the brilliant pulpit
orator; the scientific researches of the scholar buried in
his laboratory and the service rendered the cause of
justice by the conscientious attorney are just as holy as
the scriptures of the past or the solemn ceremony of the
present. Any man who is doing a work necessary to
maintain the fabric of society and who is inspired in
that work by a vision of the greater life that is yet pos-
sible for mankind is showing himself a true disciple of
the Religion of Humanity.

Will this religion actually come to play any impor-
tant role in the history of mankind? Two thousand
years ago I am sure that no cultured man of the day
would have predicted the triumph of a religion such as
Christianity which has so much of superstition and error
within it. It must certainly have seemed to them that
better things were in store for mankind. So it may well
be that 2000 years from now the religion which inspires
the world will bear little relation to what I have de-
scribed. The irrationality which is so conspicuous in hu-
man life may defeat it and the people of that distant
time may be living under the guidance of a religion as
inane and insipid as some of the New Thought cults of
our own day. But, of course, I cannot refrain from hop-
ing that as the years pass an ever larger portion of hu-
manity will espouse the nobler faith. However this may
be, I know that satisfaction for myself can come only as
I do all that lies in my power to advance the cause of the
Religion of Humanity.

VI
MODERNISM AND HUMANISM

A, WAKEFIELD SLATEN

West Side Unitarian Church
New York

Humanism

A. Wakefield Slaten

LODERNISM is a name given to a type of re-
ligious thought now widely current. As Fundamental-
ism is a reaction hostile to certain phases of present-day
thought and life. Modernism is a reaction favorable to
them.

Modernism has had a long history. It began with Ibn
Ezra, a wandering scholar, a Spanish Jew, who lived in
the twelfth century after Christ. Up to this time it had
been believed without question by both Jews and Chris-
tians that Moses was the author of the first five books of
the Bible, although in the last one of the five an account
is given of Moses' death and burial. It was supposed
that he had been divinely permitted to anticipate this
advent and describe it in advance. The great Jewish
writers, Philo and Josephus, had believed that Moses
wrote these books. Jesus had quoted from them and
called Moses the author, a fact which Fundamentalists
still regard as convincing proof of their Mosaic author-
ship.

But Ibn Ezra doubted. He discovered in Genesis ref-
erences to events which according to the Bible itself did
not occur until long after Moses' time. This was the
beginning of biblical criticism, which was the beginning

79

8o Humanist Sermons

of Modernism. It was dangerous, however, to oppose
current religious opinion. Ibn Ezra said, "I know a
secret, but a prudent man will keep quiet." Ibn Ezra
was prudent. He kept quiet, and set the fashion fol-
lowed by all succeeding Modernists.

Modernism originated in a pre-scientific age, but has
been intensified by the rise of the sciences. It began in
Judaism, passed over into Protestantism, and had a
vogue for a time in Roman Catholicism, until it was
officially forbidden by a papal encyclical letter Septem-
ber 8, 1907.

Among Protestants, Modernism is widely accepted.
The more advanced theological seminaries have been
Modernist for years and have developed many Modern-
ists among the younger clergy. If the Fundamentalist
reaction had not set in, the Protestant churches might in
the course of a generation have been very largely lib-
eralized. The work that Modernism was doing by "bor-
ing from within" is now exposed and brought into sharp
contrast with orthodox Christianity. As you read the en-
cyclical letter against Modernism issued by Pope Pius
X you recognize that it represents from the Catholic
point of view precisely the protests the Fundamental-
ists are making from the Protestant point of view.

Modernism may be defined positively as that form of
religious thought which attempts to preserve the spirit
and the institutions of Christianity, while at the same
time seeking to apply the scientific method.

The scientific method has been said to consist of three
steps : accurate observation, exact record, and limited
inference. The scientific method is the laboratory meth-
od. It ascertains facts, records facts, and reasons from
facts. To the use of it we owe all the knowledge of
natural forces which we now possess.

The limitation of the scientific method against which

A. Wakefield Slalen 81

religionists sometimes inveigh is this, that it does not
attempt to pass over from the physical realm into the
metaphysical, that is from observed effects to an in-
ferred cause. The scientific method is Positivist in its
attitude, tacitly accepting the declaration of Comte that
our knowledge is limited to phenomena, and that ulti-
mate causes must remain unknown.

It is often said that there is no conflict between
science and religion. This is a specious claim, made in
the hope of peace. It is based upon an adroit distinction
between theology and religion, theology denoting an
accepted system of thought, and religion a wholesome
manner of living. Of course, there is no conflict between
science and a wholesome manner of living. But religion
is more than a wholesome manner of living. It is also an
accepted system of thought, and with orthodox systems
of religious thought science does conflict.

When it is said that there is no conflict between re-
ligion and science it is often meant that there is no con-
flict because religion and science deal with separate
realms, but this statement involves no compliment to re-
ligion because it concedes that science deals with the
demonstrable facts of the material world, and religion
with the undemonstrable assumptions of the spiritual
world. Religionists go as far as science can take them,
and then they let faith fly, like Noah's dove, out over
the vast wastes of the unknown and unknowable. The
reports that faith brings back from its lonely journey are
treated as the data of religion, and are supposed to be as
authentic as the hard-won data of science. If a man
wishes to use weasel words, he can say truly that there
is no conflict between science and religion, because
science deals with fact, religion with fancy; science with
the discoverable, religion with the undiscoverable;
science with knowledge, religion with speculation.

82 Humanist Sermon /

However, if religion deals with anything that can be
known it enters the domain of science, with the possi-
bility of conflict.

If a man wishes to be candid rather than clever, he is
compelled to say that between science and religion there
goes on a ceaseless conflict. Before the advance of
science, religion gives up with stubborn resistance its
idea of a flat earth, an universe of which this world is
the center, a cosmos created in six days, a super-race of
demons as the cause of disease, and temblor and tornado
as the special judgments of the deity. When religion
held the field without a rival, it was dangerous to doubt.

Corresponding to the gradual progress of science,
there is a gradual regress of religion. As the light of
knowledge advances, the shadow of the supernatural
retreats. As far as traditional religion is concerned the
cynical saying of Schopenhauer is true, "Religions are
like glow-worms, they need the dark in order to shine."

There is a warfare between science and religion, and
Modernism is an attempt to effect a truce. The scientific
method and its findings are adopted, and yet it is
claimed that the essentials of Christianity are not af-
fected. All the old affirmations stand, but with a slight-
ly different significance. It is not necessary to change
one's vocabulary, but only to let it have for one's self
and the initiated new meanings. Then all parties are
satisfied. The literalist hears familiar words that have
for him a definite content. The brother beside him, in-
structed more perfectly in the ways of the Modernist,
recognizes a different sense. This is a great convenience.
It is reckoned good management to kill two birds with
one stone. But it is to be feared that the Modernist kills
three and the third is something very precious ; intel-
lectual honesty. He tends to become a half-way thinker,
an expert in ambiguity, a dealer in double meanings.

A. Wakefield Slaten 83

Positively defined, Modernism is an attempt to recon-
cile traditional religion and modern science by so satis-
fying the historic claims of Christianity as to make them
acceptable to minds that have been influenced by the
current culture and at the same time keep intact the be-
lief in the supernatural and in the unique superiority of
Christianity as a revealed religion.

Negatively defined, Modernism is not Fundamental-
ism. Fundamentalism is steel; Modernism is rubber.
Fundamentalism is uncompromising, Modernism is con-
cessive. Fundamentalism stoutly maintains that where
science and the Bible disagree, science is wrong; Mod-
ernism weakly admits that where science and the Bible
disagree, the Bible must be reinterpreted. Dr. Fosdick,
in his book, "The Modern Use of the Bible/' says: "It
is impossible that a Book written two to three thousand
years ago should be used in the twentieth century A. D.
without having some of its forms of thought and speech
translated into modern categories."

Accordingly, he gives up the biblical notion of de-
mons, but holds that the essential fact remains that
people are tempted to evil deeds; he gives up the biblical
conception of angels, but holds that the essential fact
remains that God is real and near; he gives up the bibli-
cal idea of the resurrection of the bodies of the dead,
but holds that the essential fact remains that the soul
is immortal ; he gives up the biblical expectation of the
return of Jesus in physical form, but holds that the es-
sential fact remains that God will ultimately establish
his kingdom on earth. It is by such means that the
Modernist persuades himself that he has arranged a
favorable truce for religion in its conflict with science.
Why must there be such juggling with the Bible? We
accept the Iliad for what it is.

The Fundamentalist regards the Bible as the verbally

84 Humanist Sermons

inspired, infallible word of God, whose statements you
doubt or disregard at your peril. The Unitarian accepts
the Bible as the literary product of Judaism and Chris-
tianity during their classic periods, to be approached in
the same spirit in which one approaches the Iliad, the
Koran, the Vedas, or any other of the literary products
of the world's great religions. To Unitarians the Bible
is a book of fascinating human interest. Like the Arabi-
an Nights, its pages open to us a door into an oriental
fairy land. While we read we join ourselves to nomadic
caravans as they wander across the Tigris-Euphrates
valley. We dwell with shepherds on the plains of Pales-
tine. We toil as slaves in Egypt. We fight in many a
merciless battle with bows and arrows, slings, and
spears, and swords, and chariots of iron. Again, we are
round-eyed children, sitting at the tent door as the des-
ert damask deepens into dark and the stars come out in
the purple sky, children listening to stories of the great
days of old, and asking eager questions as to the why of
things, and who made the world. We see miracles, the
sick rise up before our eyes, graves open, and dead men
walk about the streets ; devils shriek and cast their vic-
tims raving and foaming on the ground ; angels appear,
dressed in dazzling white, and God Himself speaks to
us from the sky! Now we are prophets and martyrs,
bruised and bloody and spittle-smeared, denouncing and
pleading, and praying for our enemies ; now hot-hearted
apostles, proclaimers of a new faith, who face governors
and kings without trembling, and at last, like a Na-
poleon, we stand in sombre solitude upon a sea-girt isle
and dream of overturnings, revolutions, destruction,
vengeance, and history remade. A wonderful book is the
Bible, and it needs no apology and no defense.

The Modernist, however, is not content to accept the
Bible as the Unitarian sees it, a fascinating phantasma-

A. Wakefield Slaten 85

goria of ancient oriental life. For him it must serve the
further purpose of a guide for the twentieth-century
Christian. Something of the Fundamentalist still sur-
vives in the Modernist. For the Modernist, the Bible is
not infallible, but it is inspired; it is the handbook of
the Christian, to be interpreted in ways that edify. He
regards the Bible as a record of religious experience, a
religious experience that parallels our own, and he be-
lieves that although the biblical authors wrote in forms
of expression that were natural to them and their time,
they uttered eternal truth. The Modernist therefore
accepts the Bible in as nearly as possible the Fund&-
mentalist fashion, and where he finds it necessary he re-
interprets, to bring his religious doctrines into harmony
with science. Modernists are therefore evolutionists.
The Christ of Modernism is an unique figure. He is
neither the incarnate deity of orthodox Christianity, nor
the purely human being of free and rational thought.
He is a Galilean Jew, the Revealer of God, in whom we
observe the actual character of the creator and control-
ler of the Universe. For the Modernist, Christianity is
absolute, because it differs from all other religions by
being divinely introduced into the world while all other
religions sprang up out of humanity, and because it em-
bodies the best that is to be found in all other faiths, so
that it becomes the world's ultimate religion. The creeds
of Christianity are regarded by Modernists as monu-
ments marking the stage of thought reached at a given
time, and as symbols intended to express religious feel-
ing. Consequently the Modernist is often able to em-
ploy in his worship such a symbol as the Apostle's Creed
as an expression of religious feeling, apart altogether
from its verbal sense, as people unreflectingly sing
hymns, without thought of the meaning of the words.
Fundamentalism is much more vigorous in its intel-

86 Humanist Sermons

lectual processes than Modernism. Modernism tries to
be middling and succeeds in being muddling.

Nor is Modernism Unitarianism. Sometimes people
wonder why that prince of Modernists, Dr. Fosdick,
does not join the Unitarians. You have only to read his
books to know why. He is not a Unitarian, and his com-
ing to us in his present state of mind would be a mutual
embarrassment. Dr. Fosdick is not a Unitarian, nor is
it likely that he ever will be. Modernists repudiate the
suggestion that they are Unitarians. A Modernist edi-

oo *

tor has truly said :

"It is also important to dissociate it (Modernism) from
Unitarianism . . . Modernism is not the equivalent of TJni-
tarianism." {Christian Century, January 17, 1924, p. 71.)

There are many restraints that keep men of broad
views from joining the Unitarians, considerations of
family feeling, income, fear of a limited usefulness, and
others, some creditable and some discreditable, some
actual and some bogies of the imagination, but often the
real reason is that these men are not Unitarians. When
you become a Unitarian you cut loose from the old
moorings and set out on what seems a dark and danger-
ous voyage. The old comforting infallibilities disap-
pear. You are on the open ocean, with no hand to hold
the tiller but your own; no chart to guide you but your
own reason and conscience; no bright harbor to steer to
but one of your own choosing. You are the master of
your fate, you are the captain of your soul. It is a solemn
moment when a human being rises to such a pitch of
courage as that, casts off from warm certainties, and
heads out into the chill mist of the high seas. Not every
one is born to be a mariner and bid farewell to the lights
of home and the loved and familiar streets of his native
village. Be patient, therefore, with the Modernist when

A. Wakefield Slaten 87

he does not become a Unitarian. He was not meant to
be!

Nor is Modernism Christianity. Those sturdy Fun-
damentalist defenders of the faith once delivered to the
saints who make this assertion are correct. Though
Modernists protest their loyalty to Christianity and per-
suade themselves that they are only serving up an old
dish in a more palatable way; though they believe that
they have thrown away the husk to keep the kernel;
though they think they have preserved the essential
truth while discarding the old thought frame-work, this
is merely a comforting illusion. The reluctance with
which men give up the name Christian is highly signif-
icant. Not until ingenuity is exhausted and intellectual
honesty has not where to lay its head, will a man admit
he is not a Christian. Emerson said, "Leave the Cross, as
ye have left carved gods," but his voice was not heard.
To this day there be those even among ourselves who call
Unitarianism "liberal Christianity," when Unitarian-
ism is no more Christianity than figs are English wal-
nuts. Slowly and painfully the disciples of a new re-
ligion learn that it is different from its predecessor. At
first the early Christians supposed themselves to be only
an improved type of Jew. Ultimately they learned they
were not Jews at all. For long, Unitarians have consoled
themselves that they are an improved type of Christian.
Gradually we are realizing that we are not Christians at
all. At present, the Modernists assure themselves that
they also are an improved type of Christian. In time
they will see, as their clearer-headed Fundamentalist
antagonists see now, that Modernism is not Christiani-
ty. To be a Christian is to accept a certain historic
scheme of thought as true. He who interprets the his-
toric claim of that religion in a figurative and spiritu-
alizing way has ceased to be a Christian.

88 Humanist Sermons

Modernism takes out of the structure of Christian
thought one stone after another and replaces it by a su-
perior substitute. When its process is finished a structure
remains, indeed, and one, perhaps, in better taste; but
the original is gone.

Here is a Modernist watch. When I was a young
Baptist minister in my first parish, in Kansas City, Mis-
soiiri 5i my congregation gave me a watch. It had Wal-
tham Works and a hunting case. A few years later I was
baptizing some candidates in Black Creek, in western
New York. My pocket filled with water and the works
of my watch were ruined. I took it to a jeweler and had
them replaced with Elgin works. Now, I wanted an
open-face, and once upon a time when a birthday came
my watch disappeared, made a trip to another jeweler,
and the hunting case was replaced by an open-face. Now
I have a watch, indeed, and one that suits me better than
the original ; but why pretend it is the same ?

And why should the Modernist not admit that he is
not a Christian? There is nothing reprehensible in not
being a Christian. It is difficult to see how any thinking
man or woman at present could for a moment consider
being a Christian if it were not the fashion among us,
and convention did not demand it. How many people
do you suppose are Christians because the historic claims
of Christianity as a system have been brought to their
adult attention and have won their intellectual assent?

The values of Modernism from the liberal religious
point of view are many and great. Modernism is like the
spring thaw that follows a long and cold winter. The
frost comes out of the ground, the streams released from
their ice-locked prisons flow joyously once more, the
hepaticas peep forth along the banks of the lake, and
the trailing arbutus among the rocks, and all the land-
scape, except the shaded spots, is freed from snow. Mod-

A. Wakefield Slaten 89

ernism is springtime in religion. It comes as a welcome
relief from cold and stiffened dogmas.

The most striking defect in Modernism is its logical
inconsistency. It shrinks from a recognition of what is
involved in its principles. The Fundamentalist is con-
sistent, the Catholic is consistent, the religious liberal is
consistent, but the Modernist appears to be unware of
the implications of his position. In giving up the historic
claims of Christianity and substituting for them what
he fancies to be the essential and permanent truth in-
volved in those claims, he is virtually giving up Christi-
anity. When he has finished, he has a thought-system,
but it is not the Christian thought-system. It is not what
Catholic and Protestant Christians have believed these
many centuries. It is disingenuous to tell people that the
modern view of the first chapters of Genesis does not im-
pair their religious value, that the great truth remains
untouched, "In the beginning God." The obvious intent
of the first account of the creation is to offer an explana-
tion for the Hebrew custom of sanctifying the Sabbath.
It is disingenuous to reject the biblical writers' belief in
demons, angels and miracles, and still claim to hold
what the biblical writers in their bungling way were
driving at, temptation, intuition, and the power of sug-
gestion. They were not driving at any such things. They
meant exactly what they said. Thus Modernism tries to
commend itself both to the conservative and to the lib-
eral, failing in each instance. Yet Modernism may be
counted on to appeal to the general body of compromise-
loving American minds.

Modernism is only a stage in the development of a
modern man's religious thought and is inadequate for a
really modern mind. Modernism is
the road'to religious

minds will not be long content to tarry there. Modem-

90 Humanist Sermons

ism is incipient Unitarianism. It is especially attractive
to candidates for the Protestant ministry, because of its
compromise character and its popular success. It per-
mits a large measure of free expression without the loss
of connection with a great denomination. Fundamental-
ism is extremely reactionary, Unitarianism is extremely
liberal. Modernism is Moderateism.

Modernism constitutes a challenge to religious liber-
als. As Fundamentalism stimulates us to a campaign of
popular religious education, Modernism incites us to
examine ourselves to see whether the spirit of pioneers
is still within us. When Daniel Boone's nearest neighbor
came to be only nine miles away, Daniel Boone moved
on. He said he had to have elbow room, he couldn't
stand being crowded like that. So he moved farther
west, and set up a new frontier. He was then sixty-five
years old. The Modernists are close up to where the
Unitarians were a hundred years ago, and where some
Unitarians are yet. To some even today the sermons of
William Ellery Channing mark the extreme frontier of
Unitarian thought.

When the Israelites in their pilgrimage from the land
of bondage to freedom came to a certain mountain, they
tarried there many days. And Jehovah said unto them,
"Ye have compassed this mountain long enough. Ad-
vance !" In these days, to every religious liberal, and to
our whole Unitarian fraternity, comes such a message.
"Ye have dwelt in this mountain long enough. Ad-
vance!" Modernism crowds upon our rearguard. It is
time to move forward again.

The direction of advance is toward Humanism, the
new emphasis in religious thought.

I would not conceal from you what this new emphasis
involves. It may well cause the boldest to pause and con-
sider. Humanism will try you as by fire. It calls upon

A. Wakefield Slaten 91

you to give up the comforting thought of the Father-
hood of God and offers you instead the inflexible im-
partiality of immutable natural law. It reminds you
that you are no favorite of a kindly Providence, but
that your existence has been thus far prolonged by vir-
tue of your fortunate heredity and your resourcefulness
in adaptation. You have stood perhaps upon the point
off some' great rock that jutted out over the roaring sea.
You have crouched upon some dizzy mountain height
and clung fast, and gazed in fascination into the abyss
below. But now you are asked to look out upon the
Universe, to place yourself, as it were, upon some pro-
jecting spar and look into the frightful depths of infinite
space. You see vast worlds rolling in resistless precision.
You realize that you are in the grip of cosmic forces.
You sense your isolation, that you are physically alone
in a terrifying and uncaring universe, and that when
your little span of life is done you sink down into ex-
tinction, the blackness of darkness forever !

It requires some courage to take that frightening look
and then to creep back into the homey, happy, human
relationships, find them sufficient, dream of a better
world of human life, not in Elysian Fields, or Wal-
halla, or the New Jerusalem, but here upon the good
brown earth.

Humanism sets before us a great World-Hope, and
pictures a civilization in which the immense fortunes
that have hitherto been periodically swallowed up in
the engulfing crater of war will be spent in the in-
tensification of agriculture, the building of roads and
waterways, municipal projects, and all that goes to im-
prove living conditions. It tells of an era when men will
not any more die before their time, when the workman
will be adequately protected by safety devices; when
every child born into the world will be well born, with

92 Humanist Sermons

its blood free from the taint of transmissible disease;
when as yet undiscovered powers of Nature will be
brought into the service of man, and man shall conquer
as far as may be even tidal wave, and earthquake, and
volcano. And not only so, but when ignorance and super-
stition and cruelty and vice shall yield to reason and
love, and the peoples of the earth shall dwell together
in this the earth-home, enjoying the fruits of their labor
in equity, governed by the law of good will. Utopia
waits only upon ourselves.

We must not shun to drive our thinking to the far-
thest and most fearsome frontier. We must not say, "I
like to think this/ 3 or "I prefer to believe that"; we
must look squarely at the stark and terrible facts of
the universe.

"The simple truth is all we ask, not the ideal,
We've set ourselves the noble task, to find the real."

Suppose Humanism in some of its aspects should not
be so comforting as older forms of thought have been,
shall that deter us from its acceptance if it commends
itself to us as true? Is truth a matter with which we
can pick and choose? To minds likely to be found with-
in these walls, truth is inexorable.

Humanism may take away some of the old consola-
tions, but it offers others more convincing. After we
have borne the first chill blast, a warm glow suffuses
us ; we are heartened by vision of the World-Hope. Our
sojourn here becomes a wonder-awakening romance, a
pilgrimage through mysteries and marvels, and as we
walk together our hearts burn within us.

VII
UNITARIANISM AND HUMANISM

JOHN H. DIETRICH

First Unitarian Society
Minneapolis

Unitarianism and
Humanism

John H. Dietrich

1 AM to discuss Unitarianism and Humanism,
although I shall devote practically all of my time to a
discussion of Humanism. I have related these two sub-
jects because Humanism is a form of religion, or per-
haps I should say a form of religious emphasis which is
growing up largely within the bounds of the Unitarian
fellowship. I shall speak of Unitarianism only as the
natural soil for the growth of this new emphasis, for
it is mostly within the Unitarian fold that we hear
about Humanists. In fact just as we have Fundamental-
ists and Modernists in the Protestant churches, so in
the Unitarian movement we have these days consider-
able discussion between Theists and Humanists, the
only difference being that in our fellowship we have
the highest regard for one another's views and differ
with perfect sympathy and understanding. The very
basis of our fellowship is freedom of conviction and
utterance, so there is no question of the right to preach
either of these forms of doctrine from a Unitarian
pulpit.

What is this distinction between Theism and Human-
ism? Perhaps I can make it plain by a couple of defini-

95

96 Humanist Sermons

tions. Cardinal Newman in his Grammar of Assent
says : "By religion I mean the knowledge of God and
of our duties toward him." That is Theism. It is putting
first a study of God and the necessity of performing
our duties toward him. By changing a couple of words
in that definition, I can tell you my conception of
Humanism. Let me put it this way : "By religion I mean
the knowledge of man and our duties toward him."
That is Humanism. It does not deny the right to be-
lieve in God and learn what you can about that which
we designate as God, but it places faith in man, a
knowledge of man, and our duties toward one another
first. It is principally a shifting of emphasis in religion
from God to man. It makes the prime task of religion
not the contemplation of the eternal, the worship of
the most high, the withdrawal from this world that
one may better commune with God ; but rather the con-
templation of the conditions of human life, the rev-
erence for the worth of human life, and the entering
into the world in order that by human effort human
life may be improved. In short, the task of Humanism
is to unfold the personality of men and women, to fit
and qualify them for the best use of their natural
powers, and the fullest enjoyment of the natural world
and the human society around them. It conceives of
religion as spiritual enthusiasm directed toward the en-
richment of the individual life and the improvement
of the social order.

This is the only religion that can ultimately save,
this religion of faith in man. And this does not exclude
a faith in God. It is really the same thing as faith in
God; for, whatever God may be, it is quite clear that
he can manifest himself only through man's conscious-
ness, and that we shall get more and more knowledge of
him only by believing that our highest impulses are

John H. Dietrich 97

his manifestations, tempered by our capacity to receive
them. I am convinced that what the world needs more
than anything else today is a recognition of this saving
fact. It is not in the following of what we ourselves
honestly think and feel that we shall find salvation.
For, if there be a God, his manifestations must be con-
tinuous to this and every generation just as surely as
to any generation preceding this. And if there be not a
God, it makes no difference there is man just the same
with his insatiable craving for something better than
he has yet known, with his ineradicable feeling that his
true nature, toward which he must forever strive, is
greater and nobler than the poor showing that he makes
of his life at the present time. Now this is a virile and
a bracing faith, and it is the faith that saves, as no other
faith ever has saved or can save. Why? Because salva-
tion can mean nothing else than obtaining the highest
and best for man and that is the supreme object of
Humanism. Humanism includes every faith, and every
part of a faith, that ministers to this end. The urgent
need of today is for this great faith to be blazoned
abroad.

II

Before speaking of its relation to Unitarianisrn and
the fundamental facts of its faith, I must say a word
about the sources of its knowledge and the method of
study adopted by this form of religion. In this respect
Humanism does not recognize the existence of any
supernatural. It adopts a purely naturalistic conception
of the universe. That is, it does not believe that there
is any personal being outside of this universe who con-
trols and governs it, and who may do so even in Viola-
tion of natural law. Instead, it believes that everything
comes within the domain of cause and effect, that every-

98 Humanist Sermons

thing is the result of a well-established order. And this
principle it applies to the human order as well as to
the natural order, and believes that every action in
each person's life, as well as every fresh unfolding of
the vast panorama of history, is the result of human
antecedents and explainable by human causes. Now
these constant laws are the conditions which determine
human life, and therefore the knowledge of these laws,
in order that man may conform to them or resist them
as the case may be, is the foremost condition for the
enrichment and improvement of human life, both the
individual and group life. Therefore it adopts the pure-
ly scientific method of observation and deduction in
its study of the facts of human experience, which is the
basis for our knowledge and of our hope. And this use of
the scientific method in religion is in direct contradic-
tion to the traditional method which has prevailed in
the past. Formerly men began with a theory. They
then made observations and experiments and the best
man was the one who could show how his observations
fitted neatly into the theory. For instance, the chemist
had a theory of the constitution of matter, and he made
experiments in order to show that the theory was true.
The most distinguished chemist was the chemist who
could most effectively handle observations in the in-
terest of his theory. But according to the scientific
method, the chemist begins, not with a theory, but with
the observation of facts, and then postulates a theory
to fit these facts. He makes experiments, not in order
to confirm a theory but in order to correct it, because
he knows that no theory of anything is wholly true;
and the way to find out more truth is to make more
observations and to correct the theory where it proves
to be in disagreement with the facts. You see the dif-
ference? I insist upon this because no man is ready to

John H. Dietrich 99

go forward these days without the adoption of this
scientific method. Formerly, if a fact did not fit into
the theory, it was generally thought there was some-
thing wrong with the fact, but now if a man observes
a fact which does not fit into the theory, he knows that
it is the theory and not the fact that has to be changed.

Very well. We I am going to say we from now on
because I belong to this group we believe that this is
as true of religion as it is of other realms of thought,
and we base our theories upon the experiments, or the
experience, of life. Formerly, men postulated a certain
theory of God and of man and then ordered man's life
to fit in with that preconceived theory, but we study
the facts of human life and experience and form such
theories as these facts suggest, even though it means
discarding all the consecrated theories of the past. In
other words, we build our religious ideals, methods and
hopes entirely upon the demonstrable facts of human
nature. We begin with facts of human experience and
find in them a demonstration of how human beings re-
act to certain circumstances. We go to the naturalist
and accept what he has discovered concerning the origin
of man. We go to the biologist and learn what he has
found out concerning the physical basis of life. We go
to the physiologist and understand what he knows about
the functions of our bodily organs. We go to the psy-
chologist for instruction about the intricate nature and
workings of the mind about the evolution of con-
science, the scope of imagination, the power of senti-
ment, the authority of reason. We go to the historian
and learn what humanity has achieved, tracing the on-
ward steps of civilization the growth of law, litera-
ture, art, government, commerce, science, religion. We
go to the educator and discover how the intellect and
the emotions are trained and unfolded. We go to the

ioo Humanist Sermons

sociologist and watch the creative methods by which
defectives are improved and so-called criminals re-
formed. We go to the student of comparative religion
and learn the development of religious aspiration and
study the forms in which it sought to express itself.
We gather all these facts from the widest circle of
experience, and in the light of these facts we affirm that
man is the outcome of nature's highest creative impulse
a being, imperfect but improvable, with native capac-
ity for the discovery of truth, for moral development,
for religious feeling, and for the outgrowth of evil
and we seek to build a religion which will bring about
these desirable results. We accept these truths concern-
ing human nature as the basis and starting point of our
religious doctrines and methods. We see man a very
imperfect being, who has stumbled on through igno-
rance and waywardness, sorrow and superstition to
higher civilization and nobler character, and we hope
to speed up his development by changing his stumbling
on through ignorance to a direct approach through
scientific knowledge.

Ill

I must be brief in regard to the relationship between
Unitarianism and Humanism in order to have time for
some discussion of the fundamental tenets of this faith.
In the first place, Unitarianism offered opportunity for
the enunciation of Humanism by virtue of its under-
lying principle of spiritual freedom, by its insistence
upon intellectual integrity rather than upon intellectual
uniformity, by its offer of religious fellowship to every
one of moral purpose without regard to his theological
beliefs. But this is not the important thing. The real
reason why Unitarianism was the natural soil for the
growth of Humanism is the fact that Unitarianism was

John H. Dietrich 101

a revolt against orthodox Christianity in the interest
of the worth and dignity of human nature and the
sanctity of human life. The real origin of Unitarianism
is to be found in the revolutionary interpretation of
human nature which was taught by Channing and his
colleagues. Previous to the revolt of Unitarianism the
Christian church looked upon men as almost entirely
worthless, of no more value than the worm which
crawls in the dust. It was taught that man was con-
ceived and born in sin, totally depraved, doomed to
eternal torment, from which he could be saved, not by
any merit of his own, but only by the saving grace of
God. This horrible doctrine was preached in its crudest
form in New England by Jonathan Edwards and his
cohorts, and it was into this New England of a hundred
years ago, with no loftier conception of human nature
and human destiny than this, that there came the revo-
lutionary ideas of Channing and other men of noble
mind. "Every human being," said Channing in his
discourse on Slavery, "has in him the germ of the idea
of God ; and to unfold this is the end of his existence.
Every human being has in his breast the elements of
that divine everlasting law of duty; and to unfold,
revere, obey this, is the very purpose for which life is
given. Every human being has the idea of what is
meant by truth. Every human being has affections,
which may be purified and expanded into a sublime
love." "Such," says Channing, "is our nature. These
are the capacities which distinguish us from the ani-
mals. These are the things which make it possible for
every man to be regarded as a being of infinite worth
and sanctity." And it was the pronouncement of this
doctrine in contrast with the doctrine of human deg-
radation as held by New England Calvinism that
formed the basis of Unitarian thought.

102 Humanist Sermons

It is only a step from this thought to another which
forms the basis of Humanism; namely, that man not
only is of worth but of supreme worth, that he is an
end and not a means. In other words, Humanism is
merely an expansion and a more rigorous application
of the fundamental principle of Unitarianisin. Indeed,
Channing announced this logical conclusion, but it has
not been fully preached by the majority of Unitarians.
Directly following the words which I have just quoted,
he says, "Such a being was plainly made for an end
in himself. He is a person, not a being. He is an end,
not a mere instrument or means. He was made for his
own virtue and happiness, and not for the virtue and
happiness of another. It is to degrade him from his
rank in the universe to make him a means and not an
end." And this doctrine which Channing preached one
hundred years ago is seized upon by certain followers
of Channing today and made the basis of a religion.

IV

Without going into detail regarding a number of
things connected with Humanism, I want to speak in
general outline of a few fundamental beliefs upon
which the whole structure is built. And the first of these
is the one I have just mentioned the doctrine that
man is an end and not a means toward something else,
not a mere instrument to some other end unrelated to
himself; and that therefore all men must treat them-
selves and all others never merely as means, but as
ends in themselves; and while this may not be an en-
tirely new doctrine, it is one that is constantly ignored
in every relation of life.

In the natural world, life is constantly being used as
a means to the purposes of other animals' lives; and

John //. Dietrich 103

human beings in their conduct show something of that
same principle. The slave-holder uses human lives for
his own profits. The unscrupulous employer who over-
works women and children is using them as means to
his end. The white slaver and libertine are using human
beings as mere means. So is the man who unjustly builds
up a reputation upon the work of other people or rises
to power at their expense. All the age-long brutalities
in history, all the cruelties and foul play of the present
time are but the examples of some human beings using
others as means to carry out their purposes and desires.
And this is what makes war not only horrible but in-
excusable it is the gathering up of millions of men by
kings who have alliances to maintain, or governments
who have financial interests to protect, and hurling
them into battle, without asking their consent and for
the sake of no cause with which they can have the slight-
est connection. In fact, treating people as only means
to our ends is very common, so common that most
people do it even in the trivial affairs of every-day life.
It might be interesting for you to analyze your relations
with other people and see to what extent you are treat-
ing them as means toward your own ends.

But being common does not make it right; and in
protest we believe in the dignity of man on his own
account, and in preserving all the values which make
for the enrichment of human life. Insofar as that dig-
nity was recognized by the old religions, it was made
a borrowed affair, an emanation from the dignity of
the creator of the universe. This idea was in keeping
with other ancient beliefs. In the Middle Ages an in-
dividual counted only by virtue of the grandeur of the
rank above him. The serf could be great only in the
greatness of his landlord. He amounted to something
according as he contributed to the splendor of the owner

104 Humanist Sermons

of the estate; and his landlord in turn found reason
for being in the grandeur of the overlord to whom he
was vassal. This overlord looked up to the nobleman
above himself until the emperor was reached, and then
the pope, and beyond the pope, God. The ethics of the
whole feudal system rested on this idea of serf, vassal,
lord, each in his station finding his glory in the glory
of his superior. This mediaeval conception of a descend-
ing glory still rules the religious thinking of most peo-
ple, whether they are conscious of it or not. The Catholic
church is indeed aware of it and says so frankly. The
Protestant churches are not always conscious of the
fact, but they nevertheless repeat the formulas based
on the conception that whatever dignity there is to hu-
man life is a reflection from the supreme dignity of the
King of Kings, and that man's part is to serve him and
receive his care. Even Channing rested his idea of the
dignity of man upon the thought that he had within
him the germ of the idea of God. And so they all find
their inspiration, not in being men but in being sub-
jects or children of God. But our idea of the glory of
humanity is not based upon any reflected glory. We see
man as the highest product of the creative process, we
know of nothing above or beyond him, the highest
things of which we can dream are but the products of
his own mind, and so the supreme object of our al-
legiance is human life. The same thing is true in regard
to the purpose of life. The old religions make the glory
of God the chief end of man, and all effort is directed
toward his glorification, because man is only a means
toward the fulfillment of God's purpose. But we believe
that the chief end of man is to serve man, that man is
in himself an end, and that the chief purpose in life
is to create and preserve those things which give an
ever-deepening value to human life. And so Humanism

John H. Dietrich 105

at the very start declares human life to be the thing
of supreme worth in the universe, insofar as our knowl-
edge goes; and recognizes nothing which commands a
higher allegiance. It regards man as an end and not
a means for carrying out the purposes of a superior
being; and so seeks to preserve and develop everything
of human value.

V

The second fundamental tenet of Humanism is our
faith in the possibility of improving human life. As
we look out over the world, we are impressed with the
pain and suffering, the poverty and misery, the hatred
and strife, the ignorance and squalor, and the hundred
and one things which afflict humanity and .rob it of
its right to life and happiness; and as Humanists we
have faith that these conditions can be overcome, that
a new order can be introduced which shall bring peace
and security and happiness to the whole of mankind.
Here is a world blundering and bruising itself, wasting
its superb resources, weakened and impoverished by
disunion and strife, and we believe that in its place can
be built a world more uniformly sunny and joyous, a
world united and skilfully organized, a world free from
illusions and superstitions, a world proud of its devel-
oped strength and wisdom and creativeness. We behold
multitudes of pale, dull-eyed folk condemned to stunted
minds and coarse tastes; and we believe in a possible
transformation of these into Ruskin's "full-breathed,
bright-eyed, and happy-hearted creatures/'

This is indeed a faith that should put fire into the
bones of every man who loves his kind. What else in
all the world is worth while if only an era of individual
and social righteousness can be established upon earth,
and life can be made desirable to the whole of man-

io6 Humanist Sermons

kind? It was this faith that gave volume and power
to early Christianity. It was not the pathetic tale of
the life of Jesus, nor the tragic story of his death; no,
nor the innocent myth of his triumphant resurrection,
that fired those early Christians with passionate enthu-
siasm. It was their grand faith in "the kingdom of God"
which these men saw in prospect, and for the realiza-
tion of which they endured every kind of hardship and
suffering. And it is this faith that will give volume and
power to our Unitarian movement, and it is this faith
that will conquer the world if only we carry it to the
world in such form as to make men despise things as
they are and passionately long for things as they should
be.

In the present restless and disturbed conditions of
the world, no faith less than this can conquer humanity.
Man will not now listen to the petty plans of the or-
dinary religionist, with his fantastic scheme of salvation
in an unknown world hereafter. He must have instilled
into his heart the greatest, the biggest, the noblest thing
that man can conceive nothing less than a perfect
society, an ideal fellowship, an era of perfect justice
can satisfy and win him. It is not necessary that he ac-
tually hope to witness its establishment; it is enough
that he can think of it, that he can believe in its coming,
that he can work for it with his brain and his hands.
You remember the dying words of the young revolu-
tionist, condemned to death in Russia, "Though we die
we have bright hopes." He did not ask to see the nobler
social and political order that he believed was to come;
it was enough for him that he believed and that he
could give his life for it. And so should we think of
this grander order, this universal society, this common-
wealth of man, which the heart and mind unite in de-
manding as the result of the toils and struggles of

John H. Dietrich 107

all the generations of men. Cannot we also cry, "Though
we die we have bright hopes/' and go forth in life with
strength and courage, because we have faith that the
world is moving toward this goal, and we can give our
lives for it?

And this grand faith, which must be the strength of
humanity, the popular religion has not given us, and
apparently has no aim of giving us. Its dream of a per-
fect social order has its accomplishment somewhere
else, and has no relation whatever to this actual order
in which we now live. In fact, it has given a kind of
sanction to the order of society as it now exists, and
feels slight impulse to create a new oneJTheref ore must
come with passion and with enthusiasm our Humanistic
religion not preaching acquiescence and submission
to the present order, but holding up in contrast to what
we see about us an era in which reigns perfect peace,
perfect justice, and perfect good will and declaring
unto men that in this idea alone is there any sacred-
ness and authority; and that every sacrifice made in
its interest is a noble act, and that everything done to
deter its progress is an eternal wrong. This is the faith
that the world needs today. It does not need an eccle-
siastical religion, it does not need more priests and pray-
ers and holy books, it does not need literary essays on
academic subjects; but it does need the never-ending
voice of the prophet going up and down the land, cry-
ing, not as of old, "Prepare ye the way of the Lord,"
but "Prepare ye the way of mankind, and make its way
straight."

VI

The third fundamental doctrine underlying Human-
ism is a belief in the essential unity of mankind, and
the necessity of bringing men to a consciousness of this

io8 Humanist Sermons

unity if the better world is ever to be established. Every-
where we turn today we meet racial antagonisms, na-
tional jealousies, class struggles, religious prejudices,
individual hatreds; and it is not strange that the ma-
jority of men have no thought of human solidarity, no
ideal of world unity. But, in spite of this, we dare to
believe that there flows through the whole human race,
from the lowest to the highest, one life and one blood,
and that man's salvation depends upon a recognition of
this human solidarity. Either we must find that under-
lying unity and march on together to that common ideal
and purpose, or mankind is hopelessly doomed. And so
whether or not we are brothers because we have a com-
mon father, we are brothers because we have a common
life and a common interest; and it is this common life
and this common interest which man must be brought
to realize.

So while others continue to preach creed and class
and caste and the many things which drive men apart,
we have faith to believe that men and nations can come
to live for the good of humanity, as well as for their
own good and welfare. We have faith to believe that
men and nations can learn how to cooperate for the
sake of the common good of all mankind, that there
will emerge at length one common objective goal to-
ward which all mankind will strive : namely, the estab-
lishment of a commonwealth of man, which shall be
built upon the principle of good will and service to
humanity. We have faith to believe that in the con-
sciousness of this unity lies the only road toward a better
world, and personally I believe that in the practice of
this brotherhood lies the only path to human survival.
And in the light of this faith it becomes our duty to
proclaim, only in a far deeper sense, the cry of the
French revolutionist, "Be my brother or die."

John H. Dietrich 109

VII

The fourth and last tenet of Humanism that I shall
mention is faith in man belief that the power to re-
alize these great ideals lies in man himself. In other
words, we have an abounding faith in humanity, and
in its ability to create this better world. Whatever faith
in God may mean to other people, there is no question
that it means to us simply faith in man and his ability
to accomplish what he sets out to do. For we have
reached a point in our development where we realize
that the character of our human society is not controlled
by blind forces nor by conscious forces outside of hu-
manity. The kind of world we live in depends not upon
some God outside of man, but upon man himself; or,
if we choose to put it that way, upon the God that
dwells in humanity. It matters not which way you put
it, the responsibility clearly rests upon man. In other
words, the character of man's life on this planet de-
pends not upon divine intervention nor upon prayer;
but upon what we ourselves are and what we ourselves
do. This does not mean that a rational conception of
God is ruled out of life; it simply means that the em-
phasis is changed, and with that emphasis is changed
the responsibility and duty of man.

Let me make this perfectly clear to you. This faith
of ours that the vision of that perfect society which we
behold depends upon ourselves for realization is the
most revolutionary thought that has ever been intro-
duced into the religious world. We do not believe in
that friendly providence, which the other religious sects
feel sure will establish the kingdom of God, whether
we desire it or not. We have no thought of a miracle-
working God as taught by the popular religions, who

no Humanist Sermons

will intervene at the critical moment, ignore all the
stupidities and blunders of mankind, and without any
regard for natural law, establish his kingdom. Neither
can we believe any longer in some supreme cosmic prin-
ciple that is working inevitably along the lines of prog-
ress towards the better era, regardless of what man does
or fails to do. In fact, we believe that such faith is a
menace to the world, insofar as it teaches men to depend
upon God for what they should do themselves. The
trust that most people have in some outside power that
will surely establish the \ ingdom of heaven upon earth,
apart from humanity, must be driven utterly from the
minds of men if progress in this direction is ever to be
achieved. Let men hold their ideas of God if they will,
but we must insist that whatever God does he does
through men and not for men. To some people this
reversal of thought is tremendously humbling, but to
me it is inexpressibly inspiring. For what does it mean?
It means simply this that the better order of things,
which for centuries men believed God was to produce
for us in another world, we are ourselves to produce in
this world. The other view places all the responsibility
for failure on God or providence or some cosmic prin-
ciple. Our view places it where it belongs, on man him-
self. If there is ever to be established an era of peace
and justice and good will, we insist that it depends
upon ourselves upon what we are and what we do.
We hear clearly the command, "You yourselves must
do the good which you desire/'

And we answer this command with a dynamic faith
in man and in his power to be and to do everything
that is needed. We say to the world, "Behold what man
has achieved in the past. Every institution that exists
in the world educational, social, religious, political-
has been thought out and then wrought out by this

John H. Dietrich in

creature which we call man. All the truth and justice
and social order that we know today is the product of
man's effort." And when we contemplate the stupendous
achievements of the past century, we are forced to be-
lieve that there is a kind of omnipotence in human
nature, the possibilities of which we have not yet begun
to dream, and to cry with Swinburne, "Glory to Man
in the Highest, for Man is the Master of Things/'
Man's ability to be and to do is limited only by the
degree of his faith in his powers to achieve. It is not
faith in dogmas and creeds that the world demands
today, it is faith in oneself and in one's fellows. If the
world at large had that faith, we could indeed remove
mountains, even the mountains that stand in the way
of human betterment. We talk about the dangers of a
lack of faith in God, but it is not important whether
or not a man believes in God; the real danger lies
in the denial, not of God but of the fact that an
ideal justice can conquer the world and that men can
and will do the good. Our failures to achieve progress
toward this better world in the past have been chiefly
due to the fact that we have all been inclined to place
the responsibility for things as they are on providence
or God or nature, instead of realizing that we our-
selves are to blame; and a great advance in this direc-
tion will be made just as soon as men are honest enough
and brave enough to assume the responsibility which
clearly belongs to them, and resolutely set themselves
to righting the wrongs that exist, and removing the
obstacles that keep us from realizing a better society.

Men and women, do you realize what this faith of
ours means? It means that we, I mean humanity, are
responsible for the present miserable condition of this
world; it means that we are responsible for the millions
of lives that were snuffed out in the great war; it means

ii2 Humanist Sermons

that we are responsible for the hundreds of thousands
who are starving in Europe today; it means that we
are responsible for the millions of people who suffer
for the lack of employment at this time; it means that
we are responsible for every undesirable feature of our
civilization; and that we are responsible for the future
condition of society. The life of humanity at least on
this planet rests in our hands. We can choose the path
that we will follow, and we can follow the path that
we choose, if we really so desire. We can make this
world what we will. We hold the keys to the future in
our own hands. If there is ever to be a better order oi
human society it will depend upon us and upon no one
else. Think of the awful responsibility this places upon
our shoulders; and in the light of this responsibility
how can we keep on dallying with petty manners in
religion reading bibles, mumbling prayers, throwing
ourselves in the arms of Jesus.

This is the basis of the faith which we call Human-
ism, and this indeed is the religious need of the world,
and I pray that our Unitarian churches shall ring not
only with all the old-time enthusiasm of our fathers,
but also with the modern-time spirit, which needs only
their lofty devotion and willing sacrifice to fulfill the
world's new sturdy saving summons, "Thou must do
the justice that thou cravest." In the light of such a
faith it becomes our supreme duty in this world to hold
before the gaze of men the vision of a perfect social
order, to preach the absolute necessity x of the practice
of human brotherhood, to hold aloft as the supreme
object of our allegiance human life itself, and to turn
the thoughts of men from the altars of the departed
gods to the tasks which lie about them, and to help them
realize that the destiny of human life on this planet
rests in their hands; for, once we transfer men's efforts

John H. Dietrich 113

from seeking help from heaven, whence no help comes,
to a firm and confident reliance upon themselves, the
progress of humanity toward an era of peace and hap-
piness is assured.

In fact, I am assured that there is no possible future
for religion except as it broadens itself out into this
Humanistic position. All real progress is brought about
by the application of the spirit of Humanism, by a real
and living faith in the power of man to achieve, and a
consecrated devotion to the ends of human life. Every
advance in freedom and self-development is a result
of the application of this spirit; but in the past it has
been applied by men of science and of industry, and
not by religion. It is right that men of science and in-
dustry should be at the back of all efforts of progress ;
but religion should be there also, and should be the
inspiring force ; and religion would be there if it were
the religion of Humanism.

VI11

THE UNIVERSE OF HUMANISM

EARL F. COOK
Formerly

The Unitarian Church
j) Illinois

Tne Universe of
Humanism.

Earl F. Cook

SEVERAL summers ago with three companions
I was in Glacier National Park. We had been walk-
ing all day and when the shadows lengthened and
darkness filled the narrow valley between two gigantic
mountain peaks, we built a fire to cook our food and
to keep warm during the night. In my diary I wrote
the following paragraph about that night in the open :
"There was no sound except the crackling of the fire and the
occasional slow movements of one of us putting another hunk
of wood on the embers. The sparks went scurrying upward in
the canyon of trees. The forest was silent; now and then a
slight wind coming down from the valley from the glaciers
above us audibly caressed the tops of the trees. There was a
tremendous loneliness. The woods crowded upon us and the
trees seemed to protest our presence as 'they invisibly sucked
life from the dead forests beneath them.' Inky blackness was
beyond the trees at the stream's edge. The fire made dancing
and fantastic shadows in its circle of light. The forest was a
weird, ominous, and terrible thing of beauty that night. It
seemed to watch us, waiting to subdue and capture us. The
fire alone seemed strong enough to protect us from it. No
wonder man has had gods of fire and worshiped the flaming
sun. The wilderness crushed the spirit into a strange and ex-
pectant peace. The stars through the crevice between the trees
sparkled and made one lying on his back on the boughs itch with
wonder, although the body was dead from exertion."

117

ii8 Humanist Sermons

Now, this itching with wonder by my companions
and me at the immensity of the heavens, the silence and
the darkness was no new experience. It is as old and
hallowed as the human race itself. My ancestors and
yours have also turned their faces to the infinite canopy
of the stars and tingled with a sense of mystery. The
poor savage a hundred thousand years ago peered up-
ward through the canyon of trees in primeval forests
and perhaps trembled at the sight of the marvel above
him. The shepherds on lonely hillsides, and desert
wanderers have been like the poor savage and like you
and me. They, too, wondered and tried to read the
mighty marvel straight. They created myth and story
to account for the stars, the moon, and the sun, and
their interpretations are the choice bits of a tattered and
ill-recorded past. Some of them thought the stars were
windows out of which came the light from the halls of
the gods. Others, like the Greeks, told their children
that at night the sun dipped into the unknown western
ocean where it was seized by the god Vulcan, and placed
in a golden goblet which navigated the northern seas
to reach the east by morning, so the sun could rise again.
Indeed, the Iberians and many other ancients actually
imagined they could hear the hissing water when the
glowing globe was plunged into the western ocean.
This and other explanations were man's first weak at-
tempts toward building the science of astronomy, the
first steps toward a grander day.

As man wondered, he tried to place himself and his
kind and his earth in this scheme of heaven. Human-
like, he wanted to know what his relation was to the
gods who ruled and directed the sun, the stars and the
moon. As he comes toiling and thinking through the
centuries, we find him giving explanation after explana-
tion. All tribes and races have their favorite answer

Earl F. Cook 119

to the unsolved riddle. Some of their myths are rich
in fancy and imagination; others are meager and
starved, but everywhere a tale exists that unfolds man's
place in the cosmic scheme. With the passage of time,
man studied the heavens systematically and gradually
came to possess fairer knowledge. The Greek philoso-
phers Pythagoras, Plato and Aristotle were contributors
of original thought, but it was Ptolemy, the Egyptian,
whose explanation came to hold the attention and be-
lief of men for hundreds of years. He said the earth
was round but he held that it was the center of the
universe and that all the other heavenly bodies circled
around it.

The Christian world inherited this Ptolemic system
with the strong tendency, however, to cherish the
notion of a flat earth. With characteristic arrogance and
naivete, the Christians believed that God had made the
universe for them, that the earth was the largest and
most important body in space, that the whole universal
stage was so arranged that through the Christian door
one could walk into the august presence of the cosmic
creator and master.

Christian thought, like pagan myth, was earthly and
human. It was geocentric centered around the earth
and things thereon. And it remained so until Copernicus
and Galileo did their work. You all know that story.
In spite of it, however, we find people today clinging
to the same old notions. They still are pre-Copernican;
indeed, even the most liberated minds are tinged and
saturated with the thought that the world is the chosen
planet of God, the sole diamond that sparkles in the
infinities, the single body upon which life is, and whose
inhabitants are the pampered pets of the eternal. These
folk reject the faith of the ancient and Mediterranean
races that believed the gods were ruling things, that

Humanist Sermons

Jshtar tended the seeds and fruit, Diana the animals,
Mars war, and Zeus everything in the universe. They
reject these old gods as helping man and substitute one
god to do the same thing to help them and to make
them the chief instruments of the universe, indeed the
reason for the universe. They naively think that the
whole thing was created for them, so that they can fol-
low a particular way of salvation and get into heaven;
and that man's place in the universe is central and
primary.

With the growth of astronomy, geology, and the evo-
lutionary sciences, however, something has started to
happen to this belief of man's central place. Modern
astronomy has implications that forever blast the an-
cient thought of man's importance. The old ground has
really been removed from beneath us and we have been
placed in a fresh setting.

The new universe revealed to us by the telescope and
the spectroscope staggers even the widest and wildest
human imagination. Mighty and long though the mind
of man is, it cannot reach out and hold what is above
him in space. Our own solar system, of which the sun
is the center, is but a drop in the ocean of the cosmos;
and our earth is, in turn, but an infinitesimal item in
the solar system. If we could split the sun into a mil-
lion pieces, one of these pieces would be appreciably
larger in bulk than the earth. Yet the sun, and all its
constellations, is only one of a million suns. With its
coterie of planets, it is merely the work of a million
billion years; a tiny fragment, as it were, of cosmic
patchwork; a hole in the infinities as though clawed
open by the fierce talons of some gigantic bird trying
to find a landing and a resting place in its homeless
flight through the eternal years. We on the earth are
nestled very close to it, 92,000,000 miles; but, should

Earl F. Cook 121

it start to move away into the dark abyss of space, it
would become as the other stars. Its brightness would
be even less than theirs; indeed, we might not be able
to see it at all. It is not particularly important in the
fabric of the illimitable universe; and if it, along with
the moon and the earth and all the latter contains, were
to cease to be and vanish, the effect of this departure
on the universe would be merely as though a lone star
had ceased to twinkle. In striving to grasp this awful-
ness of distance and size, the poet Allingham wrote:

"But number every grain of sand,
Wherever salt wave touches land ;
Number in single drops the sea ;
Number the leaves on every tree,
Number earth's living creatures ; all
That run, that fly, that swim, that crawl ;
Of sands, drops, leaves, and lives that count
Add into one vast amount,
And then for every separate one
Of all those, let a flaming sun
Whirl in the boundless skies, with each
Its massy planets, to outreach
All sight, all thought; for all we see
Encircled with infinity
Is but an island."

And on the shore of this island is a grain of sand
our earth. It is part of something grander and greater
than itself. It is the outcome of unknown processes at
work for uncountable centuries. Scientists calculate its
age with long rows of ciphers, but even then it occupies
only a few seconds in the day of eternity.

On this earth are our comrades, and you and I. Our
.place is here, a place far different from anything ever
dreamed of by our myth-making and Christian ances-
tors. We are not the center of the universe. Our planet
is hardly that. It takes its place among the lowly. And

122 Humanist Sermons

strange, is it not, that if a god wanted his chosen race
the human family to be the finest blossoms on the far-
reaching cosmic tree, he did not select a larger, fairer,
and mightier planet? But such a question is only the
beginning of fresher orientation.

Scientists point out that our earth will probably not
exist forever. Like all else, it must pass away. There
may be some huge cosmic storm in which tremendous
meteorites pelt our continents like rain and leave the
face of the earth scarred and battered like the moon.
Others planets even may be pulled from their orbits and
grind us into dust and gas. Or, before this happens, we
may perish from cold and ice. Indeed, if the coating of
air which now wraps the earth were to disappear, says
Sir Robert Ball, it seems certain that eternal frost would
reign over whole continents as well as on the tops of
mountains as it does now where the air is thin. A per-
petual arctic would be here. Life would disappear.
Human life, anyway, exists between very small ranges
of temperature. Let the thermometers drop too low or
rise too high and remain there, and soon mankind and
the foods upon which it depends would vanish from the
earth. There seems to be no gods watching over us as
the ancients thought, no Heavenly Father caring for
us as the Christians thought. The earth is not exempt
from the laws of the universe, where myriad worlds are
being born and are dying.

And on this earth of ours mankind seems to have no
special dispensation. The rules of the game of life are
tough and hard, and they work inexorably and irrevo-
cably. Man is not free to go his own way unhampered
and unrestrained. Death is ever waiting around the
corner to seize him and to tear his dear ones from his
arms. The grave is the abyss toward which we are all
being marched. Our comrades and our friends go into

Earl K Cook 123

the darkness there, as we, too, must go. Death sickles
men like wheat. It has no favorites. It takes the beggar
and the king, the madonna and the prostitute. They
must all go like the birds of the air, the beasts of the
field, and the fish of the sea. No blossom, no flower, no
human being, no city, empire, or nation can resist it.
They become dust. And the universe moves on, ap-
parently neither caring nor knowing that it crushes
human hopes and dreams as indifferent to the destruc-
tion of delicate love and undying loyalty as it is to the
passing into darkness of a star and its constellation.

Disease, too, visits man. The universe seems to have
as much regard for the germs that carry off men before
their time as it does for what gives life. To it there
seems to be no good, no bad. It makes no distinctions
and protects the death-dealing germ as well as the
health-giving. Famine and pestilence can sweep pop-
ulation after population. Earthquake and storm can
come, destroying the human work and pain of a thou-
sand years. And the universe cares not. Its brute power
rolls on and on, eternally on, grinding man down, pelt-
ing him with pain, snatching love and laughter from
his arms; and, as far as we can see, the face of the earth
remains the same. The criminal and the saint, the
prophet and the time-server seem to have an equal
chance.

Then, like the universe itself and like nature, man
seems doubly their child. He, too, has in him the beast
and the animal, which from time to time capture the
citadels of love and reason and righteousness, and make
low the places of the earth. Nature coaxes his passion to
a fierce hot flame and over the earth he spreads the seeds
of war and death. He also crushes the finest dreams of
his brothers and sisters and comrades; rolls over their
countries like a storm and lays waste the works of

124 Humanist Sermons

beauty. Standing as he does with his feet planted firmly
on the earth, a product of her f orces, he acts as she acts
and makes ignoble his manhood. If there is a god who
watches over him and guides him, as by a pillar of fire
by night and a cloud by day, then that god is often more
devil than god, more like the cold, indifferent, brutal,
blind universe itself.

And so I might go on, pointing out item after item
that reveal how small and how insecure is man in the
scheme of the heavens. These items are the implications
involved in the discoveries of science. Science can paint
no rosy and comforting picture as does theology. It
smears daubs of blackness over our noblest dreams, and,
as with a knife, rips to tatters the canvas of our loveli-
est thoughts and beliefs. To it, the universe is as indif-
ferent to man and his life as it is to any other animal;
and it cares no more for the earth than it does for other
tiny planets hidden in the unfathomable depths of the
skies. All are equally insecure.

These implications of modern science are not pleas-
ant. They upset our traditional views, push aside as
worthless our radiant optimism that "God's in his heav-
en and alFs right with the world," and they leave us
cold. Science seems to freeze the heart to ice and wither
the soul like grass in the hot sun. And when one first re-
alizes what the scientific view means, when one first
becomes conscious of this brute power against which we
futilely struggle with no chance of ultimate victory,
then the thrill of life departs and existence seems worth-
less. I know when the significance of science dawned
upon me, my house of thought tumbled down like a
house of cards and I felt as though I were gripped by a
deathly illness. Months passed before the taste of life
became sweet again.

But then it came to me as it has come to other men

Earl F. Cook 125

that it is part of religion and true humanhood to turn
from vain regrets. It is part of religion to stay and to
conquer, not to flee from our gravest and sorest troubles.
This is no easy task, and if man would be man and not a
traitor to human divineness there is no other road out of
the sombre wilderness of science. Even though nature
cares not for us, we must care for ourselves and make
life magnificent.

I recall poor Friedrich Nietzsche. He, too, had seen
what science means when it speaks about the universe.
He saw that the whole universal process goes on
and on without ceasing or turning a hand for mankind.
Is it all worth while, he pondered. One day, broken-
hearted and dismayed, he was walking in the forest of
the Harz Mountains and lay down to rest. He fell
asleep. When he awoke, the sun was going down, mak-
ing long slender shadows among the trees, the birds were
piping their songs, the sky was a blaze of gold and
purple. Feeling all this, Nietzsche reflected : Ah ! even
if life gives no more than this brief moment of beauty,
then life is infinitely worth while and precious. It was
this single touch of beauty that gave him energy again
to go on his sad and stormy road.

Many are the people who feel that if this universe is
as science implies it is, then there is no sense, no mean-
ing to human existence. They fail to catch the deeper
grip on life suggested by Nietzsche in this episode. They
say if science is true, then they would not be moral,
they would set no limit upon their desires and would
crush human loveliness under foot like a flower. Such
folk fail to grasp the possibilities in the attitude toward
life that must grow out of a full realization of what the
universe really is. And that failure accounts for their
dismal reaction.

Even though nature does not care for her children,

126 Humanist Sermons

makes no great favorites, and is hostile in a larger sense,
she does help man. She is indifferent to his life, as she is
to other life, but she has given him that lovely sense of
beauty which caressed the tired mind of Nietzsche.
After all, we are part of her. We are not alien children
in a strange and foreign land. The land may be barren
and harsh as a sunless arctic strand but it does have
flashes of glory. Science tells us that. We are on that
strand and we are a living part of it. We were with it
when this constellation was star-dust swinging rhyth-
mically through the orbits of greater constellations. We
were there. The star-dust and fire-mist shriveled into
our solar system and a little nebula of incandescent gas
sparkled like a star and became our earth. And on it were
formed the seas and the emerald hills. We were there.
The dancing atoms that were to be you and I were
journeying blind like the ceaseless waves of the tireless
ocean. Out of them a strange necromancy began. Invisi-
ble forces were at work and, out of the damp places by
the sea, life began to crawl. Up through the single-
celled amoeba came life. It passed from form to form.
Nature often stepped in and wiped out whole species,
caring not for her brutal destruction of beautiful crea-
tures, caring not for their poise and strength. She was on
her way and the universe was on its way. Monsters lived
in the slime of swamp, breeding, fighting, dying, and
then ceased. And we were there. Nature seemed to say,
as Hugh Orr puts it, "It was, I am, I shall be. If I begin
in the amoeba, I shall go on to the rose, on to the broad-
browed seer, on to the fairest madonna of the race. If I
begin in silence, I shall break forth in song."

And as nature came upward, we came upward. We
were part of the great cosmic process, buds and blos-
soms, perhaps the fairest on the tree. We have never
been separated from it all and never can be. Our end

Earl F. Cook 127

may be decreed tomorrow but even then we pass back to
the old earth out of which we were born.

There is a thrill in feeling part and parcel of this
great climbing and growing life. There are times, as it
were, when I feel the old earth swing under my feet as
she sails on her aimless voyage through the cosmic sea
to the port of nowhere. I know there is no meaning in it
for us of the earth, for we may be wrecked tomorrow
and sink down into the impenetrable depths of space,
but meanwhile there is a glory, a mystery, an enchant-
ment in knowing that we are part of this amazing voy-
age and adventure. We are keeping time with the dance
of the stars ; the same atoms rhythmically coursing my
body are coursing to the same beat out among the
planets. When the springtime comes, and "April runs
thin-clad over the emerald hills," I feel the sap of life
tingling on its way to the beauty of grass and leaf and
flower, on its way to awaken and nourish the sleeping
buds. That is part of the process and I feel it as Whit-
man felt it. I become more than clay. I am awakened as
the bud is awakened. Nature, although she may strike
me down, has blessed me with a sense of wonder and has
made me a citizen not of today but of yesterday and to-
morrow. She may curse me, yet she can cheer me. She
may not care for me or my fellows, but we can wring
from her a few pearls of beauty and joy.

When Job was faced by disaster, and the press of life
cramped and hurt him sorely, he said of the nature of
things, "Even though you slay me, yet will I trust in
you." Unlike the man who knows what the universe
really is, he was ready and willing to allow things to
take their course. He believed in accepting whatever
was thrust upon him, submissively and patiently, hav-
ing faith that the wheels of righteousness would in the
end grind out kindness for him. Beautiful though such

128 Humanist Sermons

an attitude is, the modern man cannot idly wait for
things to shape themselves favorably, for he knows that
they move onward unconsciously and thoughtlessly.

Neither can the modern man say with Emerson, "I
am a willow of the wilderness, loving the wind that bent
me/ 5 That is foolhardy optimism. That is placing too
much trust in something that does not know or care.
The wind of nature bent the willow of Japanese life by
an earthquake. It gave Black Death to Europe, it gives
us today tuberculosis, cancer, syphilis, and a thousand
other curses. Surely we should not love such a wind. We
should not, like Job, continue to believe in the forces
that send them forces often called God. These cruel
things are the outcome of nature; they are her products
as much as we are her products. They spread horror
upon the earth and make existence a nightmare. They
also were in the star-dust and fire-mist when we were
there. But they are not our friends. They, too, are chil-
dren of our mother-earth, but to human life they are not
dear. Yet they are sustained by the universe that pro-
tects them as it protects us. In its sight we are on an
equal basis.

What remains to be done by the man who knows the
sobering lesson of science is to create, to cherish, and to
sustain whatever can make human life a song and a bit
of laughter. His life is insecure and upon him rests the
hard and glorious task of deepening and enriching it.
Here and there man can uncover the working of an uni-
versal law. He can learn a portion of the secret about
nature and he can utilize that secret to his own salva-
tion. He can cooperate with and use laws to sustain and
ennoble life. He can unravel the mystery of electricity
and harness it to turn darkness into light, thereby work-
ing against the larger laws of nature. He can conquer
space by train, automobile, and aeroplane, and over-

Earl F. Cook 129

come the limitations of his physical powers. He can
master disease. Nature herself is clay which can be
moulded into a house of his dreams. She is a possibility
in a small way, as we ourselves are possibilities, of some-
thing better. But in a larger way she stands ever ready
to strike us down, upset an empire, and lay waste a king-
dom.

We ourselves must, in spite of an indifferent uni-
verse, keep alive the fire of our own intelligence and in-
sight. Although the universe cares not particularly
about our morality and our ideals, we must care for
them. Upon our shoulders is being carried the ark of
life through the wilderness. All the virtues, all there is
of goodness, kindliness, courtesy is of our own creation
and we must sustain them, otherwise they will go out of
existence into darkness, as a star goes out. Apart from
us, they are not. They are children born to humanity in
its climb out of the valley of brutality, and we humans
must give them color and zest.

Some how there is an impelling voice in us that calls
us to be more delicate in conduct than we are, to be more
generous in speech. Although the natural outcome of the
evolutionary processes of creative syntheses, this voice
may be called divine. It once slept in the rock, then it
dreamed of language in the animal, and in man it awoke
and became vocal. It is the voice that speaks out and
urges us to fight against the brute power that surrounds
us. It says that, even though we all are being marched
toward an abyss which swallows everything, we must
somehow while it is still day put beauty in the place of
ugliness, laughter in the place of tears ; that we should
make our brief stretch in eternity a stretch of time to a
better social order; that we should dispel ignorance with
knowledge, hatred with love; put reason above preju-
dice and science above tradition.

130 Humanist Sermons

Thus we see that our place in the scheme of things is
not what our myth-creating ancestors thought it was
and not what our Christian forebears thought it was.
It is something far different. We know only a little
about it. We are part of a gigantic process, ,as the morn-
ing glory and spring violet are parts of it. We are ex-
periments of cosmic forces, points where the universe,
as it were, mysteriously has come to rest for an instant.
Whether the experiment is completed, we know not.
Where it came from and where it will end, we do not
know. But we do know that we can be more than errand
boys for unconscious power. We can be builders of a
beautiful home for mankind on this temporary earth.
We can be crusaders for human loveliness, for after all
we are life's pilgrims out of the infinite and bound for a
port unknown. We are really more than business men,
housewives, lawyers, mechanics, laborers, physicians.
These are the things that keep us busy. We are also
priests and prophets who carry the torch of life in "the
proud procession of eternal things." We have come out
of Jrhe darkness and bleakness of eternity as dreamers,
lovers, creators, haters, despisers, companions to forest
ferns, sea-birds, and evening stars all joined together
by an universe that travels onward into the unknown.
And while we move on this ship, we can bravely sing
with Whitman :

"Sail forth ! Steer for the deep waters only.
Reckless, O Soul, exploring, I with thee, and thou with me;
For we are bound where manner has not yet dared to go.
And we will risk the ship, ourselves and all."

IX

THE ARCHITECTURE OF HUMANISM

EUGENE MILNE COSGROVE

Unity Church
Hinsdale, Illinois

Humanism

Eugene Milne Cosgrove

"He who hesitates to utter what he knows to be
the highest truth, lest it should be in advance of
his time . . . should remember that he is not
only the descendant of the past, he is the parent
of the future and his thoughts are children born
to him, which he may not carelessly let die."
Herbert Spencer.

'HAT WITH the new movements in art
all the ideal things the young artists are trying to create
on canvas, and the new Elizabethans trying to make
lyrical in song, not to speak of the brood of novelists
essaying a new literature indigenous to the soul of
America it would seem strange if there were not a
collateral movement in the field of religion.

To be sure, they are dramatic, adventurous, challeng-
ing as all radical movements are. They are also pro-
phetic of the glorious dawn that awaits the emancipated
spirit of man in America.

It is interesting to notice how some words change
their original meaning, or lose it entirely in the coursing
of human speech. In Chaucer's day, the word nervous
meant a man of iron, an Hercules; in our day it means,
as Hamlet says, a man whose "withers are unwrung."

133

134 Humanist Sermons

The time was when the mere sound of the word radical,
shouted at us from the Holy City of our faith, was suffi-
cient to send most of us into hiding. It clouded our title
to recognition among those who wear the purple of
authority and have the nod of Caesar. Today, however,
it has risen to heights of respectability never dreamed
by any of us who entered professional life, as late as
ten years ago. In the religious world, at least, we are
slowly bringing in its strict scientific usage, in the sense
of getting to the root of things. I am of the opinion
that it is largely due to the radical departures in the
world of the arts that this impish fellow has arrived
among the "Who's Who" of the intellectual elite.

Is it too much to say that wherever humanity has
reached a cross-road in history, there, too, has appeared
the young adventurer, the radical innovator a social
prophet, a dreamer of new beauty, pointing the way to
the finer and better world of which all poets, artists,
and lovers of mankind dream?

France! What names her history enshrines in the
pantheon of the Immortals !

France, first skeptic among the nations of Europe !
Is not the skeptic the man, standing at the cross-road,
who shades his eyes that he may the better see the truth,
the dream, the way in the unclouded light? It was out
of such a land her Immortals came, who gave a new
value to human worth, and to civilization the curve of
progress. Is it any wonder that France, despite her im-
perialistic ambitions, still remains the uncrowned mis-
tress of the world's heart?

Lately, I have been much impressed by the futuristic
strivings of the radical innovators at the cross-roads of
art in America.

Is it in architecture? I saw, for the first time, the
other day, the wide skyline of New York harbor. The

Eugene Milne Cofgrove 135

skyscrapers rose cloud-piercing, like giant sentinels
pointing to the dimensional value of America's destiny
in the scheme of things.

The skyscraper! Is it not a new poetic art; born, as
it were, bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh? What
is it but the first fruits, in the least plastic and most
abstract of the arts, of the young genius of America
forever unafraid of being outlawed by the artistic gen-
tility of an age that makes a fetish of the classic tradi-
tion of art.

Is it in music? Shades of Beethoven, Bach and
Brahms !

I am reminded of the first time I saw the Statue of
Liberty. It takes an emigrant to see it, as I did one day,
with the waves of the Atlantic breaking in a thousand
rainbows at her feet. Now the Statue of Liberty is not
only the first lady of America, but a woman without a
past. Like the Statue of Liberty, our art, architecture,
music, and least of all our literature, are bound to no
past of tradition, however much we may honor it. It is
only out of the soul of such a race that the new music
could arise. It should be said that while the music
of our jazz age, its barbaric rhythm, its fierce intensity
of movement, is not defensible as music, nevertheless
it is the germ of the future music of America. Radical
beginnings are always more important than traditional
endings !

Again, it must be emphasized that the great masters
of the classic age of art were themselves radical in-
novators in their day and generation. Was not Michel-
angelo the Einstein of art? Giotto and Raphael, were
they not of the rebellious group who broke down the
conventional rigidity of religious art, and disturbed the
peace of their artistic communities?

What shall we say of the whole clan of the artists of

136 Humanist Sermons

the Renaissance whose departures, from a still later
tradition, make vocal the centuries? From Rembrandt
to Monet, have we not a grand procession of pioneering
souls who gave a new curve to art, and by so doing made
art in our day one of the loftiest wings to the human
spirit ?

What would be the tradition of art in England,
bound as England ever is to the Gibraltar of conserv-
atism in art, as in religion, had not such new dreamers
arisen like Claude and Turner not to speak of that
arch-rebel Whistler?

In music, was not Chopin a new voice in the music
traditions of the classic age; and Debussy, did he not
orientate a further departure; and, more radically ad-
Venturous than these, Richard Wagner? Wagner even
lived to see the day when Tannhauser was hooted by
critics and audience alike, at its premiere on the Pa-
risian stage. Wagner, who today is the titan of the
modern music-drama !

Is it necessary to add to the radical brood the prophets
of religion? Was not the Lord Buddha a rebel to
Brahminism? Was not Jesus a rebel to Judaism? Was
not Confucius a rebel to Taoism? Was not Socrates a
rebel to the Greek gods?

It is forever true in the fine arts, occasionally true in
religion, that the innovators of today are the tradition-
alists of tomorrow, and that the generation which stones
the prophet is followed by the generation which builds
the prophet's tomb.

Oh, Time, thou wonder-worker! Thou adjudicator
of values ! Thou guardian of the Hall of Fame !

The point is: if the young genius of America can
originate new movements in the arts, what is there so
sacrosanct and untouchable about the fine art of religion
that it must forever come within the parabola of in-

Eugene Milne Cos grove 137

violability? Has religion, unlike the arts, its roots in
the sub-soil of some supernatural Thibet, with a for-
bidden city of Lhassa known only to the priestly con-
servators of the celestial fire? Is there only one Holy
Land, or is it because there is only one holy land that
all lands are holy? Is there only one holy man, or is it
because there is one holy man that all servitors and
emancipators of humanity are holy? Is it within the
range of reason that we must forever return for the
living waters of our unslaked life to shallow wells dug
for nomadic shepherds on the Galilean hills? Is it
rational that a religion, capable of meeting the ever-
enlarging needs of a new world and a new race, must
forever find its Bethlehem by the shores of the Dead
Sea?

Again, is it any compliment to the church that it
should be founded on a rock? Is there any choice for
a thinking man between a rock and a vine? Which is
the symbol of rootage in hidden depths and expansion
toward the sun the rock or the vine ? What with mod-
ern scholarship advancing with seven-league boots, is it
not a tragedy that the church should be chained to the
rock of tradition, marking time on the open road?

It is with the high hope that religion may become
more religious, more scientific, more humanistic, and a
worthier instrument for the flowering of the divinity
in man that I venture to cast the horoscope of the reli-
gion of the future; that is, if religion, as we know it,
is to have any future at all. There is, to be sure, the
more serious matter as to whether institutionalized re-
ligion has any survival-value for the future. But this
is another question.

At this point of departure, let us mirror the position
of the contending forces in the field of religious conflict
in America. Now that the smoke has lifted, after the

138 Humanist Sermons

first close hand-to-hand encounter in our day, it is quite
possible to outline clearly the main groupings of forces
on the far-flung battle-front. I have said the far-flung
battle-front, for I find the situation is much the same
in the Orient as it is in America. This summer I had the
opportunity to travel with three professors of the Im-
perial University of Japan. They were on their way to
do research work at European and American universi-
ties. They invited a discussion of the religious situation
in America, and I returned the compliment by inviting
a discussion of the religious situation in Japan. I knew
Buddhism had its roots in the soil of the Sunrise Empire
for centuries. So I asked :

"How fares the Buddhist church in your country*?
Do the intellectual elite go there men, like yourselves,
trained in the laboratories of the Occident ?"

After a hurried conversation, one of them said :

"We go to church only when a friend dies. It is only
the old folk who go to the Buddhist church in Japan."

I had to admit that the human heart is much the
same in Japan as it is in America. It is everywhere true
that the church, which is not everlastingly the cradle
of the living, must become sooner than later the mauso-
leum of the dead.

In America, within recent memory, we could clearly
position the religious forces on the field of conflict into
two main divisions : the Conservative and the Liberal.
Now, however, with the rise of Fundamentalism to mil-
itancy, within the past five years, a more scientific
classification must be made: the Fundamentalist, the
Modernist, and the Humanist.

The Fundamentalist is not only not interested in the
new knowledge; he is on active war-footing against it.
To him, it is the appeal to Caesar. Aut Caesar aut nihil.
It is the finality of authority in the revealed book. It

Eugene Milne Cosgrove 139

is the impregnability of the Rock of Ages and on this
Rock I will build my church !

The Modernist is passively interested in the new
knowledge, and only insofar as it architecturalizes the
old. If he reads the epic scriptures of other races, it is
only to enhance the theological superiority of his own.
If he eyes the Homeric grandeur of the great souls of
other religions, it is only to champion the unique majes-
ty of the Great Man of his own. If he travels through
the Holy Lands of other faiths, it is only to give an
exceptional evaluation to his own Holy Land by the
Dead Sea. He is, therefore, less of a debit to the Funda-
mentalist than he is an asset to the Humanist.

The Humanist has no liaison with the new or the old,
as such. Is it new? Is it old? It is no concern of his.
To him life is fluidic.

In other words, the Fundamentalist, like the ancients
with their pillars of Hercules, has inscribed on the
columns of his faith, Ne Plus Ultra, nothing more be-
yond. I call him, the land-locked mind.

The Modernist realizes the power of the sea of scien-
tific knowledge. It sweeps his rock-ribbed horizons. He
feels under the whip of compulsion to compromise with
it, or be swallowed up in its ceaseless surge. But he is
afraid to make the great adventure beyond the friendly
lights of the known and the familiar. I call him, the
shore-line mind.

The Humanist is the Vasco de Gama, the Columbus
of the ocean of the mind. He is the adventurer upon the
high seas of knowledge. He takes sublime hazards in
the universe. His is the insatiable quest for new worlds
beyond the farthest-flung horizons. I call him, the deep-
sea mind.

Unlike the religion of the Fundamentalist and the
Modernist, the religion of the Humanist posits no guar-

140 Humanist Sermons

antees. It holds no mortgages. The quest is the thing
its lure, its romanticism, its possibilities, its hopes, its
idealistic purposes, and its practical ends.

Even if he should never arrive, and never a hunter
come home from the hills, and never a sailor come home
from the sea, at the journey's end, what matters it?
What matters it in a world constituted as our world is
constituted for all Promethean souls? It may even be
there is no journey's end at all. The quest is the thing.
Ours is a flying goal !

If we have high hopes in man, it should be em-
phasized it is not that we have any certainty as to his
place in the scheme of things, or his destiny in the evo-
lutionary process.

It may turn out to be that this man-life of ours is
only a universal Shakespearean tragedy. It may be
the time will come when the principals have outlived
their welcome upon the stage. Man may not be the
last great race to possess dominion on the earth. It is
within the orbit of futurities that there may come an
end to the age of mammals, as there came an end to the
age of reptiles ; and man, the head of the clan, become
an anachronism in the time-process, a sport in the lab-
oratory of life. I do not see how we can ever know.

Thus, in the absence of all such ultimates, we remain
unmoved. We are as unconcerned about finalities as we
are about beginnings. In the absence of certainties in
the horoscope of tomorrow, we risk ourselves, the ship
and all, on the possibilities of today.

The religious beliefs of the past with their infallible
books, creedal tests, other-world guarantees, the unique-
ness of their Great Man, and their believe or be-damned,
only led man into a cul-de-sac. They shackled the
winged wheels of progress. They desecrated human
values. They made reason an outcast in the homes of

Eugene Milne Cosgrove 141

her children. The new movement in religion will have,
as its purposeful end, the creation of a synthesis of
science and humanistic values.

Science builds its empire on experiment. Humanism
builds its empire on experience.

Our high task is to develop a technique by which we
may yoke these two achievements, like galloping steeds,
to the flaming chariot of life.

In the architecture of the new Humanism, the move-
ment will bring back the Confessional on humanistic
and scientific lines. Protestantism, with its eyeless rage
against everything that came out of the womb of Rome,
banished the Confessional, psychological as well as
theological, with a sorry story in the history of that
mediocre movement. Under Humanism, however, the
Confessional will find its worthier restoration. It will
give psychological absolution !

The parishional activity of the minister will no longer
be, as it so often is, the whip of necessity to keep the
corporal's guard together. Nor will it be a professional
conceit, with its meaningless asides, and ego-gratifica-
tion for minister and parishioner alike. The minister of
the new day will find his time- values honored largely
in an extra-mural life, with its endless opportunities
for psychological service and, therefore, selfless love.
In the most rational sense, the prayer of the Humanist
is:

"Give me the power to labor for mankind,

Give me the mouth of pruch as cannot speak ;
Eyes let me be to groping men, and blind,

and to the weak,

Let me be hands and feet."

The Sunday School of the new movement can bear
very little resemblance even to the best expression of
this institution, as we know it today. It will be, prima-

142 Humanist Sermons

rily, a psychological laboratory in which the develop-
mental life of the child will have the weekly direction
of minds trained in psychological technique especially
through the jungle of adolescence. The child, the mighty
atom of the universe !

I hope to live to see the day when it will be as un-
necessary to mention the name of God to a child, as it
is to tell a child the meaning of its mother's breast.

Only that childhood is godless where love is not the
very heaven of its existence; where tenderness and the
understanding heart are not the guardian angels of its
threshold; where beauty is not the templed-d welling of
its divinity; and where service, one to another, is not
the highest law of its sacramental life.

And the church service! Is it not often a rustic's
harangue, hopelessly out of harmony with the Zeit-
geist? One Sunday I found myself in a pillared temple
of much beauty in the East, where I, the visiting min-
ister, and the people were responding to each other with
the words of the Psalm :

The minister: "Rejoice in the Lord, O ye righteous, for praise

is comely for the upright."
The people: "Praise the Lord with harp: sing unto him

with the psaltery and an instrument of ten

strings."

Is there any sense to such a performance? Is there
any justification for it, not to speak of the essential
vulgarity in praising the deity? Does it bear analysis
in the light of the new knowledge? Is this what we
call giving vent to the religious emotions? More im-
portant, is it religious at all? As if there is no difference
between a pillory of traditional formalism, and a wing
of creative expressionism !

The sermon, too! Is it conceivable that the rigid
limits of the homiletic can ever be a free instrument for

Eugene Milne Cosgrove 143

the imagination of the artist? To be sure, in the stone-
age of great preaching, when every notion was cribbed,
cabined and confined by the strict inhibitions of a the-
ological system, there was no need for the creative
artist. Oratory was the Land's End of all pulpiteering,
and praising the deity was the Ultima Thule of all ex-
istence. So long as the sermon was inspiring, it did not
need to be illuminating. But with a new world-need
and a new world-view, the demand of the hour is for
the cultured imagination of the creative artist ; that is,
if preaching is to persist among us at all. With the rise
of the sweet humanities of life and the supreme em-
phasis on human values, the urgent need is for the
artist as creative in the pulpit as is the artist in the
studio of sculpture or painting. Therefore, like any art
to be art, the art of preaching must have a winged in-
strument as its vehicle of expression. In brief, it neces-
sitates the high sensitization of the creative mind. Such
a mind laughs at the staking out of homiletic bounda-
ries. Once realized, all this pointless discussion concern-
ing the superiority of the sermon-form over the lecture-
form will cease. Even more than style, it will be at-
mosphere the one requisite for expression to any crea-
tor in the fine arts.

The Bible of Humanism what else can it be but
the whole wide field of the epic literature of humanity?
It is the tritest truism that not a little of the Christian
Bible is utterly unfit to be put into the hands of a child;
not a little, despite its unliterary form, is an imperish-
able treasure. The new movement will see to it, not
only that it is printed according to the fixed forms of
literary architecture but that it is first expurgated of
all its meaningless composites, its unrighteous com-
mandments, its immoral episodes, its wars of Jahve,
and its desecrations of the human spirit, in the interest

144 Humanist Sermons

of the highest service to the common whole. Then will
hasten the doom of the Holy Book as an idol to be
worshiped.

The Christian Bible, unlike any other of the great
world-epics, has suffered more at the hands of its friends
than its foes.

The new Bible will be as inclusive as the old Bible
was exclusive. What with the door wide open to the
literary treasure-troves of the East, it is inexcusable
that so little public use is made of the scriptures of
other races. We need only mention The Mahabharata,
especially The Bhagavad-Gita, or the Upanishad, the
forest-books of India. It was of the Upanishads that
Schopenhauer said: they are the greatest devotional
literature of humanity.

Again, in the architecture of Humanism we will need
no other sacraments but truth, beauty, goodness these
three; our holy trinity.

We will need no other holy land but the worthful
questing human heart; then all lands will be holy.

We will need no other star of Bethlehem but the
categorical imperative of the good life; then all such
hearts will be the cradle of the Christ-child! It will
then be no solitary phenomenon among humankind.
The wise men will find the star shining over the inn of
every mother-heart, on whose cleft and riven bosom
tosses a redeemer of the world the universal savior-
hood.

We will need no other Gothic pile but the high
experience of all men and women everywhere the
universal church.

We will need no one holy man but the servitors and
emancipators of humanity the universal brotherhood.

We will need no other god but the ideal of perfection
for the whole human race the universal man.

Eugene Milne Cosgrove 145

We will need no other inspirational liturgy but the
sweet-sad music of humanity the universal song.

I feel more certain that we will need no other notion
of worship than that which worship essentially is,
worth-shape. Prayer will be meditation on these shapes
of worth. It will be the instrument through which we
build up these forms of enduring value for the beauti-
fying and sublimating of the Temple of Being. Medita-
tion will be the Etude of the humanistic devotional.

For a symbol of the new movement if, indeed, a
unitary symbol be needed at all let it be emblematic
of the pioneer spirit of our kith and kin, since man first
passed the torch of civilization from one swift runner
to another.

I take it that some picturization of the ever-fleeing
reality will continue to have its empirical values.

I believe such a symbol is possible within the strict
limits of a scientific humanism. It is within the romantic
worth of the humanistic mind that I find what may yet
appear to be an adequate symbol of its expression.

If so, let it be a ship such as Turner loved to paint
full-rigged upon high seas ; cloud-swept horizons be-
fore, a wake of shimmering light behind; the flag of this
world flying to every breeze, and a Promethean figure,
standing before the mast, with the spray of the crested
sea on his cloak and hair !

X

CHANGE AND DECAY IN RELIGION

L. M. BlRKHEAD

All Soul/ Unitarian Church
Kansas City, Missouri

Change and Decay

o /

L. M. Birkbead

. HE OLD religion is dying. Religious institu-
tions, creeds, religious leaders all are feeling the dis-
integrating effect of the forces which constitute what we
call modern civilization. Traditional religion is no
longer a vital factor. It does not count in the affairs of
the present time. Once life was the science of serving
the gods, so we are told. If that were once true of life,
it is no longer so.

Traditional religion is not at home in the modern
world. Modern civilization and traditional religion are
enemies. The great forces of our time and religion are
in mortal combat. Traditional religion and democracy
cannot live in the same world. Science and religion are
irreconcilable enemies. No sort of reconciliation can be
made between any sort of religion acceptable to the
average religionist and what we know as real science.

Education -and that which passes as religion never
have lived together comfortably. Traditional religion
is not the friend of any sort of education except a nar-
row religious education. Religion decreases with the
increase of education. Industrialism has never been any-
thing but the mortal enemy of religion. In his recent
book "Prospects of Industrial Civilization/' Bertrand

149

150 Humanist Sermons

Russell finds no place for religion. It is inimical to social
progress, he says. Most of the world's burden-bearers
are alienated from traditional religion, and many of
them are hostile. The so-called new scholarship, in
which is included our knowledge of history, the Bible,
and the many religions, cannot be put down as in any
sense the friend of what has been called religion. All
of these forces, democracy, science, education, learning,
industrialism are silently but surely destroying re-
ligion. And by the destruction of religion, I mean the
gradual decay of religious institutions of all sorts, the
lessening of the power of religious leaders, and the
crumbling of dogmas and creeds.

Religious decadence is not confined to any one coun-
try or to any particular religion. The revolt against
religion is world-wide. The Orient is as much affected
as the Occident. The Orient is being as rapidly secular-
ized by modern civilization as the Occident has been.
There is a very widespread revolt against religion in
India. Many new religious movements have arisen
which have attempted a reconciliation with modern
ideas. The conflict between Hindus and Moslems, and
the spread of Theosophy have also added to the tur-
moil over religion, and, incidentally, to the decay of
religion. Intellectual leaders in China admit that Con-
fucianism has lost its vitality. Traditional Confucian-
ism is dead, they agree. There are several anti-religious
and anti-Christian movements in China. A large num-
ber of anti-Christian magazines are published. The sen-
timent against all religion is strong among the students
of China.

Political leaders in Japan bewail the loss of faith in
traditional religion. They think that the unrest in
Japan is due to lack of religion.

Those who are familiar with the situation among

L. M. Birkhead 151

Moslems say that "the entire world of Islam is today
in profound ferment from Morocco to China and from
Turkestan to the Congo," and that "the 250,000,000
followers of the prophet Mohammed are stirring to
new ideas, new impulses, and new aspirations." Islam
is in the throes of a great upheaval. The political
changes in Turkey have resulted in the disestablishment
of Islam as the state religion. With the suppression of
dervishes, the unveiling of the women, and the spread
of feminism and skepticism, a veritable revolution is
taking place. One Turkish newspaper recently said that
"no thinking Turk can be a Moslem today."

Everywhere in the Orient there is the stir of new
life, a life inimical to the old religions. Lothrop Stod-
dard recently summarized the situation in this fashion :
"The 'Immovable East' has been moved at last moved
to its very depths. The Orient today is in full transi-
tion, flux, ferment, more sudden and profound than
any it has hitherto known."

One of the familiar phenomena of the Occident of
our times is the decadence of religion. Christianity in
all its expressions is in a bad way. The verdict of those
who know is that Christianity is dying in Europe?
Bishop Edgar Blake, in a recent statement about the
state of Protestantism in Europe, reports that Protes-
tantism is dying. Protestantism is in a weaker condi-
tion now than it has been in two centuries, he says.
Recently there were 781,000 withdrawals from mem-
bership in the Protestant churches of Germany. In a
certain German city of 300,000 Protestants, on a par-
ticular recent Sunday only 2,248 were present in
church. The Greek Catholic church is even worse off
than Protestantism. The gradual disintegration of
Roman Catholicism is familiar to all who have studied
the last hundred years of European history.

152, Humanist Sermons

England shares with the remainder of Europe in the
decline of the churches. W. E. Orchard, in a recent book
on "The Outlook for Religion," says that belief in God
has collapsed in England; and Bishop Gore, in his book
on "The Belief in God," makes a similar statement.
There is no movement back to the churches in England.
Vivian T. Pomeroy has lately said that "in most of the
big centers in England, ninety per cent of the people are
untouched by any church." Christianity as a system of
dogmas is gone, according to Dean Inge. Religious lead-
ers in England agree that there has been a steady de-
cline in church attendance and church membership dur-
ing the past fifty years.

The situation in America is no better. Seventy-five
per cent of the people in the "United States do not go
to church. The church in rural America has declined by
more than one-half within a generation. In fact, most
rural churches are dead. The churches in the cities have
deserted the slums the great centers of population.
The churches in the so-called residence sections are half
empty. The people in the cities have ceased to go to
church. The so-called tremendous gains in the member-
ship of the churches are mostly propaganda. Church
rolls are notoriously padded. The working people are
very generally suspicious of the church. The majority
of the people frankly say that the church bores them
its services are uninteresting. Boredom and church-
going are synonymous in the minds of most people.
The preachers are inferior. They are sanctimonious.
They utter platitudes and use empty phrases. Their
pulpit language, as, for instance, "Beloved hearers,"
is silly and sickening. The preachers and the churches
are both out of date. They are old-fashioned and wor-
ship the past. The young people are cynical about re-
ligion and the church.

L. M. Birkhead 153

The revolt of the intellectuals against the church is
generally known. One of the commonest admissions is
that hell has lost its terror and heaven its charm for
thinking people. Many thinking people hold both the
churches and the preachers in contempt. Professor J. H.
Leuba, in his recent study "The Belief in God and
Immortality/' reports that our intellectual leaders have
lost their faith in the fundamentals of Christianity.
This rejection of the fundamentals of Christianity is
apparently destined to extend parallel with the diffu-
sion of knowledge, he says. Leuba adds : "So far as re-
ligion is concerned, our students are groveling in dark-
ness. Christianity, as a system of belief, has utterly
broken down and nothing definite, adequate, convincing
has taken its place."

What to do to stay this exodus from traditional re-
ligion is the concern of religious leaders the world over.
In America, many religious leaders believe in resorting
to force. The Sunday laws, the anti-evolution laws, and
the attempt to spread the weekday religious schools,
are evidences of the appeal to force. Many religious
organizations have resorted to all sorts of "ballyhoo"
methods. The "Happy Sunday Evening" meeting,
moving pictures, sensational advertisements and sensa-
tional methods are resorted to by many preachers to at-
tract the attention of the indifferent throngs who are
passing up the church. Nothing that religious leaders so
far have done seems to have stayed the exodus from the
church and temple. The efforts of religious leaders are
ineffective. Religion, as we have known it, is done for.
The outlook for traditional religion is dark.

But this decadence in religion does not mean that the
real values which religion has cherished will be lost.
We are all reminded constantly of the fact that various
institutions have taken over the functions of religion.

154 Humanist Sermons

Schools, social welfare organizations, clinics, labor
unions, forums, libraries, art institutes, lodges, and
clubs of all sorts are cherishing the spiritual and hu-
manitarian values once sponsored by religion. The
churches and temples, as at present constituted, are not
fit homes for the great spiritual values of humanity.
The spirit has gone out of these institutions. They are
organizations thinking largely of their own existence
and success. Spiritual values receive little considera-
tion. The religious leader is no longer the prophet. He
is not even the priest. He is the business manager and
executive ; he is the administrator. He must have what
the modern world calls "pep" and must qualify as a
"mixer/' The qualities which would make him the
spiritual leader of his people are of no value. They may,
in fact, be a handicap to him. They may make him "un-
safe" and "too radical 33 as a leader of the modern reli-
gious organization. The leader of the modern religious
society must above all else be "sane." He must deal in
trivialities. It is not safe for him to agitate the great
human issues. If he does speak of them, he must not
speak in the manner of the prophet. He must equivo-
cate. There must be a double meaning in his deliver-
ances to his people. One of the outstanding characteris-
tics of the religious leaders of our times is that they
speak always with mental reservations. The prophets of
our day are not in the pulpits; they are in the colleges
and labor halls, and among the social workers. They
are writing books like Browne's "This Believing
World," Dorsey's "Why We Behave Like Human Be-
ings," and Wells 5 "The World of William Clissold."
Is this a dark outlook? I think not. In this, the most
irreligious age (from the standpoint of traditional re-
ligion) there is more humanity and more concern for
the welfare of humanity than ever before in human

L. M. Birkhead 155

society. Never were so many constructive efforts made
to rid the world of war, disease, poverty, crime, ig-
norance, and all other human ills. The spirit of science
is coming into its own. Devotion to the truth is an in-
creasing motive. There never were so many movements
(which are messianic in character) in behalf of social
justice. Genuine human goodness is more common than
at any other period in human history. The world is
headed toward a religion of humanity. Ethical idealism,
informed by the spirit of science, is to be the religion of
'the future. The coming religion is to be experimental"
and not dogmatic. There will be little fixity of belief.
The door will be left open at all times to progress.

What part will traditional religious organizations
play in this coming religion? So far as I can see, no part.
The only chance for survival is in a revolutionary
change in these organizations which I do not believe is
possible. It may be just as well that the spiritual aspi-
rations of the human race are not too definitely identi-
fied with any organization. It may be just as well for
them in the future not to be subject to organizations of
propaganda. They are more likely to dominate the hu-
man race if they are diffused through all our literature
and our organizations and societies.

XI

THE SPIRITUAL VALUE OF THE
ETHICAL LIFE

E. CALDECOTT

First Unitarian Society
Schenectady, New York

The Spiritual Value

J

E. Caldecott

JL HE TERM spirituality is to be understood in
the sense of progressive poise.

It may stand for morale.

It is that buoyancy of being, whereby one is strong in
adversity and steady in prosperity.

History shows that the serious-minded have ever
sought this quality. Whether through contemplation of
the universe, prayer, mysticism, and so forth, men have
attempted to explain and to adjust themselves in the
world and to seek mastery over it.

All human beings desire that which will sustain them
in life's problems and trials. Considering the stage of
human development, it is not at all surprising that
resort to deities should be made as a means of obtaining
this sustaining power.

Yet it becomes increasingly evident that, as religion
is psychological healing, the laws of rational psychol-
ogy must be complied with unless we are to be content
with superstition and opiates.

As a matter of fact, we have missed the greatest
single means of securing and maintaining poise while
the means lay about us ready at hand. This means is
ethical living.

159

160 Humanist Sermons

It is important that we first of all look at the nature
of the ethical life, for unless we know what that means
we cannot place it in the scheme of things.

Ethics refers to the factors producing character with
reference to man's conduct in attitude and action. In
days gone by men sought first of all to determine the
being of God; then they proceeded to man with their
idea of sin and salvation. Man was a being inclined
only or largely to evil, and by nothing but the grace of
God could he be disposed to goodness* Consequently, he
got little credit for his behavior it was God working
within him. His salvation lay in the fact that he was
happy in the knowledge of his acceptance with God.

Today we start with man. We are neither theo nor
christo but anthropo-centric. We are satisfied that if
ever the unknown becomes known such a discovery will
be made by means of the known. Whatever may be true
about the supernatural will be discovered in properly
operating the natural. Men will never know the gods
before they know themselves. We get a glimpse of this
conception even in the New Testament where the writ-
er of the epistle of John says, "he who loveth not his
brother whom he hath seen cannot love God whom he
hath not seen."

Morality is often spoken of slightingly. This is be-
cause its nature is misunderstood, and little significance
can be attached to that which we do not understand. To
live the ethical life is not just to be good, for that is
largely inanity. It is not simply obedience to the cus-
toms or mores of the times. Nor is it good manners, de-
sirable though such may be.

The conception of true ethical behavior died aborn-

E. Caldecott 161

ing with the Jews two thousand years ago. The fol-
lowers of Jesus of Nazareth were so enamoured with
the spirit of the man and became so utterly lost in other-
worldliness after his demise, that ethical progress was
stunted thereafter and was only carried on by the re-
ligious outcasts of western civilization who had very
little influence upon people in general.

Consequently, the contrast was set up, in part con-
sciously and in part unconsciously, that some were try-
ing to devise a new way of getting into heaven. They
were the people who proposed to stand upon their char-
acter. All this was regarded as "mere" morality. Now
aside from the fact that at no time was conduct so high
that it could be called truly ethical, as we understand
the term today, the sturdy men and women who were
subduing this world for human habitation, especially
on the sociological side, were these very "merely" moral
people. History amply testifies to that fact. Men may
have been ready to become martyrs for their faith, and
in that they showed the sterling stuff of which they
were capable. But they never thought of working out
the principles of justice. This world was soon to be
doomed ; why bother with it? So it was left to the here-
tics of "mere" morality to "do justly, love mercy and
walk humbly."

The fact is that to live the ethical life we must con-
form to the highest code of conduct which we can con-
ceive. This keeps man forever on the stretch. It demands
all the courage and resourcefulness within our com-
mand. "Mere" morality will not touch our require-
ments ; it is a task for giants, not pigmies.

"It is too high ; I cannot attain unto it" may be the
first cry when such high standards are called for. And,
admittedly, it is easier to believe something than it is to
preserve certain attitudes and to manifest a certain be-

162 Humanist Sermons

havior in the face of extreme difficulty. There is no
claim that we are any better than our fathers biological-
ly. Our inheritance from the animal is about the same as
that of tens of thousands of years ago. Yet, we are con-
stantly engaging in supreme efforts in the attempt to
make man master of the situation. Even to those who
believe in calling upon a god for aid, the thought must
be that the individual must actually do the work.

This is a call for summoning up all our resources and
of developing our potentials thereby. As the human be-
ing is developed muscularly by work suitable to his
nature, so can he develop morally. He who lives only
by the standards of yesterday is as he who does only the
tasks of childhood. There is no finality to ethical living.

No man will ever reach the place where he can truly
say, "I have attained to the perfection of ethical possi-
bilities/ 5 The only limit is his limit. For the race, there
is no conceivable end. Each age brings its own need and
its own vision. Things undreamed of a generation or
so ago are realities today. Sometimes we wonder if
science must not have reached the end, when behold a
discovery is made which opens up greater possibilities
than ever! Is it likely to be otherwise with human
nature? Indeed, if man ever works as assiduously over
his own make-up as he has done with material science,
he will go much farther than the ancient seer who wrote
"it doth not yet appear what he shall be."

To say that ethics is progressive is not necessarily to
condemn the past. An adult does not wisely condemn
the acts of childhood. He has simply learned better than
to do what he did formerly. We ought to live better
lives than our fathers, for the reason that we ought to
have more information upon almost every factor of ex-
istence than they possessed.

Hence, with all respect that we may have for the

E. Caldecott 163

teaching of Jesus of Nazareth, we cannot feel that he
said the last word in ethics. In all probability, the spirit
of Jesus cannot be improved upon, but his ethical con-
cepts are certainly subject to revision. One is simply
begging the question in explaining away such an inci-
dent, say, as that of the Gadarene swine. Not that we
believe such an event occurred, but that ethical ideals
were such that in the minds of his interpreters the end
justified the means. Again, while no doubt had Jesus
had a slave in his employ he would have treated him as
a brother, slavery as a social injustice did not occur to
the Nazarene.

Now, if this can be said of the one whose ethical con-
cepts and the spirit of whose career stand as the greatest
evidence of what man can become, why should we refer
to standards of the past in other cases ? Ethics must be
progressive or in effect die. What is seen as right today
may not be so regarded tomorrow. There is no "law of
the Medes and Persians which altereth not" in ethics.
We have passed the day when we believe that there is or
could be a "faith once for all delivered to the saints."

The moral ideas of men with regard to the relations
between nations are only just beginning to develop.
Those who say that peace is impossible little realize
that a considerable number like themselves are delaying
peace; peace itself must come when enough think in its
terms. And that number is constantly increasing. Such
is progressive ethics not dissociated from other forms
of thinking; not unrelated to the general advance in
education; but sufficiently different to require a dif-
ferent nomenclature. And the name we give to it is
ethics.

For our society of human beings to live this way
would mean that we had definitely and consciously
planned out a future which outlaws enmity and bitter-

164 Humanist Sermons

ness, and which treats all men as potential equals. If
we strike, it will be in self-defense and never in revenge.
This, in fine, is the nature of the ethical life.

II

To live according to the highest standard of conduct
is not the whole of life, but it does stand first. We can
surely agree with Matthew Arnold that c 'conduct is
three-fourths of life." How incongruous it would be if
that which is first in intelligent esteem should be sec-
ondary as a producer of the balances of life, giving it
its strength and steadiness! Why should we ever im-
agine that ' 'rites and forms and flaming zeal" could
give the poise that doing right can produce?

There are definitely assignable reasons for according
so large a place to ethical living in our scheme of things.

What is more important in this life than our treat-
ment of our fellows? We may adopt the attitude that
we are not responsible for such and such conditions;
that we always have the poor with us, and so on. But
since man has elected to live in a society of human be-
ings and since his attitudes and actions necessarily af-
fect others, standards of conduct must be raised.

In man's world, conduct is supreme. Suppose we ad-
vance in science and economics, only to fall foul of hu-
manity ? What would it profit us to gain the world and
kill each other? If physics, chemistry, and so on, are of
more importance than ethics, then things are of more
concern than persons an obviously ridiculous state-
ment.

The evolution of man's moral nature is largely the
story of history. In a naive way, men have recognized
that not all their curiosity about nature would bring
them what they wanted. Even when they posited that

JE. Caldecott 165

their hearts 3 desires could be attained only by securing
the favor of the gods, they gave approval to good works.
Although in certain theological circles good deeds were
counted as supererogation, they were not condemned ex-
cept as they were conceived of as disturbing the existing
stable order of society. Of a truth, we may say that the
evolution of ethics is the story of man's effort to lift
himself above his animal ancestry.

An ideal human relationship (if one may be per-
mitted the possibility of conceiving such a condition)
would yield the best interpretation of life. Whatever
romance there may be in "the starry heavens above, 55
there is even more romance in "the moral law within,"
to use Kant's famous phrases. No scientist or philoso-
pher is ever likely to come to such an appreciation of the
meaning of existence aside from proper behaviour, as a
less profound person will with appropriate conduct.
There were good ethics, good spirituality, and no the-
ology in the utterance of Jesus: "I thank Thee, O
Father, that thou hast hid these things from the wise
and prudent and hast revealed them unto babes." Given
equal ability in other directions, the man who has "paid
the uttermost farthing, 55 who has dealt with his fellows
on the basis of justice, love and mercy, will find life
meaning more to him than others can possibly grasp.

A scientist may have possession and control of an
abundance of facts; a philosopher may think them over
in their supposed relations and tell their meaning. But
he who can best tell the meaning of life must first have
lived it.

All through the years, men have been going to their
gods for what they thought might be life. They used to
pray for the staying of disease. Now they use knowl-
edge. And, as our ethical relationships improve, we shall
see that we have been going to the gods for the posses-

1 66 Humanist Sermons

sion of our souls when knowledge would give us that
command; only in this case it is not knowledge gained
academically but really that is, by living the ethical
life.

Moreover, as we progress in this conception we find
that what we obtain ourselves we value most highly.
A man is better than a child, with all the dangers of
adulthood that are involved. He knows where his living
comes from. He knows the value of the results of daily
toil. The child simply knows that things are coming to
him which provide him with sustenance. And, as long as
men felt that they could go to their deities and secure
something, they could not appreciate life. Nor did they
get anything except a drug to lull their pains. This life
could only mean something if they were confident of
another life where conditions would be much better.

Given commensurate intelligence and knowledge,
ethical conduct provides the conditions of a satisfactory
explanation of this life without any reference to a fu-
ture state, about which man has no information whatso-
ever, and belief about which can have no really helpful
influence upon living here.

Meditation, the quiet life, and so forth, undoubtedly
have their place in enabling one to have possession of
one's soul. But with the recognition of all religion as
psychological healing, educated intelligence can be sat-
isfied only with that which meets all the requirements
of the modern mind. Those requirements were well
summed up by Jesus when he said, "first be reconciled
to thy brother; then come and offer thy gift." The man
who would enjoy an evening of reading must first have
earned it by working in the day.

The impractical dreamer, the person of indifference,
the parasite, the selfish who seem to be even hilariously
happy, are all alike and are precluded of necessity from

E. Caldecott 167

the finest form of existence. Life must be paid for by
living it. Only in really facing its issues do we know
what life is.

The woman of high intelligence may have some
splendid thoughts concerning motherhood, for instance,
which cannot be the possession of an actual mother
who is a moron. But if there is any spiritual value in
motherhood, it can be extracted only by being a mother.
And while the childless woman may use her imagina-
tion more effectively than the moron mother with an
actual experience, she cannot live in a world of pure
imagination as gloriously as that which is possible to
her in actual motherhood.

The monk in the monastery described by Longfellow
in his "The Theologian's Tale/' discovered that the
Vision was valid only as he himself did his duty.
"Hadst thou stayed I must have fled" were the words
ringing in his ears as he returned to his cell. It is ever
so; in obedience to the moral law one finds the "open
sesame" to other values.

To be sure, there are many who, like the man of old,
will go away "sorrowing" at the price that must be paid.
Nor do we think these things because it seems that
nature is thus bent and cannot be changed.

It is eternally right that things should be this way.
Whatever imperfections there may be in nature, and
there are many, this one cannot be charged against her.
It is right that man should pay the highest price for
that which is the most valuable.

And if he would know the satisfactions and joys
which lie within maintaining poise amid the changing
circumstances of life, he must first of all do the right as
far as he knows it, ever learning more and more of the
right.

1 68 Humanist Sermons

III

The utilitarian value of ethics has long been recog-
nized, albeit that we are not famous for putting too
much justice and equity into our dealings even to date.
But the slogans that meet us as we enter the modern
city, welcoming us and informing us that certain serv-
ice clubs are to be found there, bear ample testimony to
the fact that morality is expected to pay dividends.
This fact becomes reenforced when we remember that
business corporations build up on continued support
over many years, and that honest dealing is a prereq-
uisite for continuity of business.

But what is not so apparent is that good living sup-
plies strength of character against the storms of life.
In a sense, we have been approaching this thought for
many years. We are in a fair way of announcing it as a
sort of Einstein theory of the soul. For a hundred years
it has been the declaration of those people called Uni-
tarians that salvation comes by character. Even though
the thought in mind originally related to an after-life,
it was never doubted that the kind of life lived here had
some very direct bearing upon the unknown future.

Yet at no time to date has the spiritual value of ethi-
cal living been adequately exploited. However much
connection it admittedly has with life hereafter, it has
scarcely been considered as helping very much to with-
stand the trials of this life. One must look outside for
such help. Yet where else but in character have men
found strength to withstand the onslaughts of nature
and of man when, by all admission, they had nothing
else to which to cling unless they might be considered
as having taken an anaesthetic in the form of some sort
of Stoicism?

E. Caldecott 169

What, for instance, can we imagine to be the reason
for the fortitude and poise of such men as Voltaire, Dar-
win, John Burroughs, or Charles P. Steinmetz, all of
them agnostics of various types, unless we can think of
them as finding resources within themselves? Not only
does salvation by a particular faith become ridiculous
in the face of such facts, but, even though one admits
that some people seem to need an opiate to carry them
through, ample instances could be produced to convince
one that many others can see life and see it whole, and
remain strong and unafraid at the worst that life can
do to them.

Who, then, can doubt that the consciousness of duty
done brings an abiding peace which is a greatly needed
spiritual quality among a much distraught people? We
used to sing :

"Could my tears forever flow ;
Could my zeal no languor know ;
These for sin could not atone;
Thou must save and Thou alone,"

This is an utterly unethical idea; a fact which is so far
recognized by even the orthodox that they are busy ex-
plaining it away. But to this day, and not excluding
liberals, the thought still lingers that something ex-
ternal must come into us, something be done for us be-
fore we can have peace. It is not doubted that right liv-
ing and a clear conscience are highly desirable. But they
are still posited as a condition for securing the blessing
of peace rather than as necessarily producing it.

Among both the circles of the orthodox and those
who are becoming liberal, then, it appears to be neces-
sary to call attention to the fact that we do not need to
wait to receive the blessing of inward quiet when duty
has been faithfully performed. We need only to learn
that this quiet may come at once with the consciousness

170 Humanist Sermons

that we have done our best. And, as we posited a pro-
gressive ethics, it involves our living up to a continually
higher law in order to secure this blessing. But when it
comes, it comes more richly than ever.

The old type of peace is going. With some, it has al-
ready gone. Many imagine spirituality going with it.
They do not regret having learned better than to believe
in things unscientific and unethical, but they feel like
mariners out on a sea without compass and chart. Many
an educated man has wished that he might have the
peace of old with the knowledge of today; and he im-
agines that it cannot be secured. It cannot, if as adults
we are to think of the complete confidence of an inno-
cent child as being peace. With knowledge, that goes
and is gone forever. But is that what we really want, or
is it the satisfaction that a reasonable measure of con-
trol is available, so that although we know the battle
may be lost at any time, we also know that we can trust
ourselves to make a valiant fight? Surely the latter is
that which brings the peace worth having !

In what striking contrast is this thought with that
state of affairs which existed in the Middle Ages when
men believed piety could be obtained only by withdraw-
ing from the world ! It has often been pointed out in the
last decade or two that the men and women who lived
the life of the cloister precluded from coining into the
world just the stock that would have given civilization
the help it needed at that time and a generation or two
later.

"Thou art not far from the kingdom" were words
used by Jesus to an anxious inquirer concerning the
great verities of life. A little more loyalty, a little more
courage, a little further vision, and this man would
scale the desired heights.

Can it be doubted that moral living opens men's

E. Caldecon 171

eyes? And, by contrast, is not wrong-doing blinding to
vision? It was not in the possession of a peculiarly
divine nature that Jesus gave forth teachings which for
sublimity are still unequalled. It was because of his
loyalty to what he knew to be right. In his own lan-
guage it was ' 'because I do always the things well pleas-
ing to my Father." Due attention to the moral code
gives spiritual vision. A statesman or a scientist does not
go occasionally into some realm of politics or science
and bring forth a gem of law. It is only by living in it
that man conquers anything. And he who would have
insight, so that this world shall mean something to him,
must first of all live where life is at its best in the
ethical realm.

Take an example from the field of social relation-
ships. We still have little vision in these matters be-
cause we are not prepared to pay the price therefor. In-
dividuals and nations fear that better relations will be
more costly than they are prepared to pay. They ra-
tionalize about human nature being unchangeable.

The laws of common logic force it upon us that, if
our thesis is in any wise true, the reason we have not
made much headway in international peace is that we
have not learned in what international ethics consist.
We have little vision because we still cling to the hope
that out of what now exists we shall somehow "make a
killing/' Yet "without a vision the people perish/* and
there can be no vision without an appropriate price be-
ing paid therefor. That price is not to be exacted from
the United States any more than from others. Because
we have much wealth is no reason why we should give
the world our possessions. As long as life is social, ethics
will be its chief phase; and any nation, be it this or
another, not obeying the moral law of nations will be
precluded from international insight.

172 Humanist Sermons

If we successfully work to a solution (and of course
the term is not used in a mathematical sense of finali-
ty) , our winning our way to success will give us an ap-
preciation which could not otherwise come. If these ad-
vances in the treatment of our fellowmen are made,
"not grudgingly nor of necessity," but cheerfully, not
only will society be improved but a vision will be at-
tained which can come in no other way than that of
ethical living.

The principle is precisely the same in the more per-
sonal relations of life. "This do and thou shalt live,"
for in man the moral law is supreme. Personal and
social adjustment; the shifting of the "atoms and
electrons" of the "solar system" of ethics, for the better
ordering of human relations, is at once his most pro-
found and difficult duty; and, when achieved, becomes
his chief joy. There are undiscovered countries in the
soul of man. As we explore them, we shall find that
ethical living is spirituality's greatest producer.

XII
THE UNITY OF THE SPIRITUAL LIFE

SIDNEY S. ROBINS

First Unitarian Church
Ann Arbor, Michigan

7

The Unity of the

Sidney S. Robins

almost our own day, religion has
been acknowledged to be the supreme interest of hu-
man life. There have been no important exceptions.
The pyramids of Egypt and the newly recovered records
of the Maya civilization of Central America speak of
religion as the center of a people's life. The art of
Greece as well as that of the Middle Ages expresses a
religious impulse. But this age-long supremacy of re-
ligion is today being challenged in a striking way.

The challenge to which we refer is coming out of our
higher or spiritual life, and it accuses religion of having
kept that spiritual life in a strait- jacket which is now
being burst asunder.

It is obvious that the intelligence of today is breaking
from the creeds and the narrow theological outlook of
the past. The spirit of science, which is the love of facts,
and the spirit of philosophy which is the love of
thought, now oppose the old spirit of authority which
held the mind in bondage to Bible and dogma. They
find a substitute for religion in the devout pursuit of
knowledge.

This intellectual challenge is finding utterance to a
certain extent on all sides. But it is doubtful if any one

175

176 Humanist Sermons

has fully expressed it as yet. When the intelligence goes
to church today, it is restless and hardly knows why. If
it could make itself clear, it might possibly say that it
is not interested any longer in being taught one philoso-
phy as the true one. It no longer appreciates a minister
who feels it necessary to settle great questions, or whose
attitude is always that of a special pleader. It craves a
minister who stands in awe before uncertainty. It loves
the search for truth. It loves thought-provoking discus-
sion. It is thrilled by contemplating what all sorts of
beings, conventional and unconventional, provided they
be interesting and real human beings, have thought
about the great problems of life.

In the second place, the conscience of today is chal-
lenging the moral ideal current in the past of religion.
It wants positive virtue instead of negative. It loves
humane sinners more than unhuman saints. It finds the
old religion insufficiently interested in making beauti-
ful and happy our common life on earth. It is beginning
to recognize, with a new humility, that a part of the
crime for which we punish people nobody knows how
great a part is chargeable to their heredity and en-
vironment. Society is partly responsible for the men in
its prisons. This new humility is beginning to be ex-
pressed in the rugged sympathy of a Clarence Darrow
and in the knightliness of a Thomas Mott Osborne.

In the third place, though this is not so freely recog-
nized as yet, our emotional life is straining against the
strait- jacket in which it has been confined in religion.
Religious emotion used to be supposed to begin in lov-
ing God. But how many youth are there today who
naturally and spontaneously speak to one another about
"love of God" ? It is as if our deeper emotions had been
bound in a strait-jacket, until today they are breaking
forth into free forms of expression.

Sidney S. Robins 177

The unselfish emotions of which all men are spon-
taneously conscious today are love for one another;
love for truth; a deep feeling for nature, a sense of awe
and sublimity in the stars and of beauty in the flowers;
an impact of mystery and a haze investing the whole of
the world; a reverence before all that is beautiful or
noble; a passion for justice and a desire for a better
world. These feelings it is perfectly natural for us to
speak about. We sometimes feel perhaps that God may
be the central heart and fire of all high emotions; but
frankly we do not all spontaneously begin with God.
We begin at the other end. We begin with these simple
emotions of which I have spoken, and which some
people call secular.

The challenge of today is to the strait-jacket in
which our higher life has been confined. Now what is
the relation of the liberal church to this challenge? The
liberal church, as I understand it, frankly adopts the
position that religion is our spiritual life. Religion can-
not be something on one side, and our spiritual life, in-
cluding the love of the true, the good and the beautiful,
something else on the other side. The only religion we
are here interested in is one with the spiritual life. It is
that which enlarges and beautifies human life. There is
only one abundant life. And, of course, that is the re-
ligious life. To the liberal, anything else claiming to be
religion, however closely it confines itself to the dimen-
sions of the old strait-jacket, is simply an impostor.

And so the liberal finds himself called upon today to
summon men to a new reckoning with the past and with
the science which explores the past. The science of the
history of religions tells of the past mistakes of religion,
of how in earliest tribes it was associated with magic
rites for bringing down the rain from the skies in a sea-
son of drought, how it resisted the development of

i?8 Humanist Sermons

science from the first, how it has clung to old ritual
standards against new moral insight, how it has per-
secuted its prophets, how it has taken form as dogma
and authority. Reading this science of the history of re-
ligion, many a man concludes that he has outgrown re-
ligion. If we judged government by its mistakes, we
would conclude we had outgrown government. But the
Liberal says, "I have no special interest in this religion
of which you speak. What you call religion, I call super-
stition. Religion to me is man's spiritual life. It is his
growing perception of what is good. So far from its
being possible to contrast true religion with moral
goodness, religion is simply the blossom and promise
upon the stalk of the good life. This which you call re-
ligion is the ivy which has grown over the walls, at
times taking all the foreground of the view, contribut-
ing sometimes beauty and warmth, not altogether lack-
ing in usefulness even while shutting out the light of
the rising sun; but never to be taken for the real struc-
ture of religion. That is the spiritual life of man/ 5

Now, to say that religion is the spiritual life implies
that it is a great and infinite task, life-long for the in-
dividual, age-long for the race. The liberal may find
himself faced wth the question of whether this spiritual
life, of which we speak, is not something that might be
considered as divided up into the separate provinces of
good citizenship, social service, art, and so on. His an-
swer to that question is that the spiritual life is a great
central religious task, calling for the unification of per-
sonal life, of social life, of the life with nature, and that
this task is too deep and pervasive to be anything but
religious.

'Tfife mark of the spiritual life on its personal side is
feiSy- We instin ctively accept this test. TlSStlsto say,
by* contrast, we recognize that a divided life is not a

Sidney S. Robins 179

spiritual life. If a man lives a double life, if he has
separate compartments for Sunday and Wednesday-
principles, for church and business principles, that is
not the spiritual life. And, on the other hand, if we
come upon a man whose whole life expresses unity of
purpose and action, if he shows that generous expansion
which means freedom from inner friction, if the whole
momentum of his personality goes into everything that
he does and we find his characteristic mark upon every-
thing that he does, we instinctively recognize not only
that he must live the happiest and freest life in the
world but that he is the highest type of spiritual being.
The mark of a great man, of a Lincoln, a Roosevelt, a
Sir Edward Grey, is that he stamps his unique character
upon every page of his life.

I came upon this description of a young college presi-
dent who died during the war, written by a friend who
had known him in days of great strain: "With Dr.
Graham it was always the fine spirit that was suffering
from a let-down of nerve-force. He was never in on
himself never in a mood. He was always for you when
you came to him and you could use him to the utmost."
This phrase "never in on himself never in a mood"
expresses perfectly the spiritual life on its personal side.
Unity!

And the ideal of the unified life here is not only
present and convincing: most of us add, "It is high, we
cannot attain unto it." We easily recognize that the
unsatisfactoriness of our lives lies in the fact that we
are not all behind what we are doing, or that our life is
divided against itself, or that we are neglecting one
thing for another without having won our own full con-
sent. Our lives are not thought out. What plans we do
make, passion or weakness resists. We know without
any one telling us, and past all argument, that the hap-

i8o Humanist Sermons

piness which we miss continually lies in a greater sim-
plicity of living and more unity within ourselves. We
have thought our way to the unified life. We have
sometimes felt our way to it, and heard the silver chime
of the bell that registers harmony of all effort and striv-
ing. When we have felt this, nobody has to prove to us
the value of some kind of worship, or of a communion
which means pressing up through the clouds of our own
minds to the sunshine which is up there. We feel it too
instinctively to question it. But after thinking and feel-
ing our way to the life of unity, there remains the task
of working and living our way there. It is a task that
summons every energy.

The mark of the spiritual life on its social side is

...-- '"*"%k X .M~. - - , f ,

umty. It is a common life. It is in us all. It deals with
goods over which there is no right of private possession.
Its province of life is that in which we all start as
equals, and can never become rivals. It binds men to-
gether therefore. Nobody doubts that love and good
will to men are marks of the spiritual life.

If we were all asked to pick out a single chapter of
the Bible that we instinctively recognized as containing
a spiritual message, I dare say a good many of us would
think of the 13th chapter of First Corinthians : "Though
I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have
not love, I am nothing."

But somewhere within this ideal of human unite or

1 1-1 11 wrp^wrwfw 1 ** 5 ' ...-H..I *".* i'"'-""*' "w,' ' "

love which we all accept so easily is the task of achiev-
ing justice for all the unfortunate, of making the classes
and the races to behold one another's faces, of saving
the world from commercialism and war. This is a great
task. The men working on the frontier of our social
system, like Thomas Mott Osborne, or on the frontier
of our educational system, like Charles W. Eliot, show
us how great the task is, and how far the leaders are

Sidney S. Robin; 181

likely to be ahead of their followers in sympathy, vi-
sion, and energy.

And, finally, the mark of the spiritual life on its
nature, or the juniyerse itself, is unity.

There must be unity with natural law. One characteris-
tic of all true values of life is that they stand before us
at times like the rock of Gibraltar in front of the waves
that lave its foot. They have an aspect of adamant and
of overhanging cliffs. We must obey the conditions
they lay down. They depend upon no wilfulness of
ours, or of all men together. They are as pitiless as win-
ter to summer's unprotected roses. They stand against
us, these laws, like other laws of nature, until we learn
wisdom. Then, they invite us to comradeship and co-
operation. And this is the spiritual life, when we are at
one with law.

The law of truth is not a law of personal life nor of
society alone. It is a law of spiritual nature, by means
of which a man is to fulfill his intelligence and grow to
what he ought to be. The law of cleanness is not the law
of personal life alone ; it is a natural law of universal
health. The creation of the least thing of beauty by an
artist depends upon secret companionship and reverent
collaboration with principles which others have not
been able to see so well.

It is beautiful to see the reverence for nature with
which a man like Luther Burbank worked. Holding up
to the light the flower his hand has helped to produce,
he tells of his life as a story of putting questions to
nature. He puts the question. She gives the answer.
When the question at length is rightly put, the answer
comes in the form of a blessing for mankind.

For this universal life of nature which we share, and
which yet stands over against us and against all men
and nations until they learn their right relation to it;

1 82 Humanist Sermons

for these spiritual laws on which the stars are strung
and in working with which we find our fulfilment and
happiness and life itself, the word "God" is for many a
shorthand expression, an emotional expression, a rever-
ent expression. The liberal, when he speaks of God,
means, besides his reverent sense of mystery, the unity
of the spiritual life on its universe side.

The mark of the spiritual life on its personal, its
social and its natural sides, then is unity. But on all
three sides the spiritual life is a great task.

We liberals have loved to show how simple religion
is. We have loved to quote Micah's great statement:
"What doth the Lord require of thee?", or to say that
religion is obeying the Golden Rule. We have meant,
or we ought to have meant, that the beginning, the first
steps of religion are easy and plainly marked.

Now it is time to emphasize the greatness of the task
of attaining a satisfactory religion. The search for the
unity of one's own life is a great and a romantic task.
On that road a man is certain to find himself a new man
over and over again. He will learn all the truth that
was behind the old doctrine of conversion, and ex-
press it in a better way. The search for the unity of our
common life and of the life with nature is just as ro-
mantic, and are all parts of one search and one task.

The spirit's life has its giant stairways that summon
us to climb up, and make of our daily life a task exact-
ing and toilsome, but converting. Its towers and bastions
rise into the sky, in height above height, in ever new
vista, in awesome splendor, giving glimpses of infinite
promise for our common life.

To teach the unity of the spiritual life, to present it
as a tremendous task but at the same time as life's great
romance, to show forth the earnestness of pursuit and
so win men, is the function of the liberal minister today.

XIII

HUMANISM AND THE INNER LIFE

FREDERICK M. ELIOT

Unity Church
St. Paul, Minnesota

Humanism
and the Inner Life

Frederick M. Eliot

JTJLMONG the practical tests of the value of a
man's religion, one of the most important is its effect
upon his inner life. Does his religion tend to build up
that mysterious, indefinable, but nevertheless intensely
real thing, we call his soul? Does his religion make a
man more of a person, more worthy to be called a man,
more truly human? Or, on the other hand, does it tend
to break down those inner resources, binding him more
closely to the material universe so as to make him less
distinctively human? Religion can work in both these
ways, and as a matter of fact it actually does; and I be-
lieve that until we know how a particular kind of re-
ligion meets this test, we have no sound basis for judg-
ment upon its merits.

This test seems to me more important than the test of
intellectual correctness, for it is possible to get real
humanizing values out of a faith that is intellectually
discredited, and it is equally possible to have a faith
which is thoroughly in line with the best modern
thought and yet find that it does not make any appreci-
able difference in the strength of one's inner life. An
antiquated faith that fosters courage seems to me far
preferable to an up-to-date faith that does not.

185

1 86 Humanist Sermons

In his delightful volume, entitled "Notes and An-
ecdotes," Joseph Bucklin Bishop tells a story of Henry
Ward Beecher which illustrates the point I am trying to
make. One evening, at Plymouth Church, he sat in the
gallery directly behind a woman who became so ab-
sorbed in listening to what Beecher was saying that she
leaned far forward in her seat, to the embarrassment of
the young man in front of her. At the conclusion of the
sermon, in the quiet hush which followed the preacher's
final words, she drew a deep breath and said, "I can
work another week now."

Whatever we may think about the intellectual cor-
rectness of the kind of religion which Beecher taught,
it was a religion which passed the test of making an
actual difference in the day-by-day life of that woman.
It actually functioned in her life, giving her the courage
she desperately needed for the tasks of her ordinary
life. And I am inclined to believe that this is what any
religion worthy of the name must do for the men and
women who accept it. If it doesn't work in this way,
then I fail to see how any amount of intellectual cor-
rectness can save it from damnation. Such a religion
would deserve to be rejected by every one who cares at
all about plain human values.

Orthodox Christianity has worked in just this fashion
for countless men and women in the past. It is so work-
ing for great numbers of people today, and that is the
reason for its continued strength in the world. But there
is a growing company of people in our modern world
for whom it no longer works in that way, even in those
attenuated forms which may be grouped under the head-
ing of Modernism; and these people are eagerly seeking
for a faith which shall do for them what the ancient
faith did for their fathers. Unless my observations are
wholly wrong, it is this motive rather than the desire

Frederick M. Eliot 187

for intellectual correctness which is behind -the eager
questioning and seeking of so many people who can no
longer accept the teachings of orthodox Christianity. It
is not so much that their minds reject the dogmas of
orthodoxy as that their souls are no longer fed by its
forms of faith and worship. Their indictment of ortho-
doxy is the familiar one, which is at the same time the
sternest, that they have asked for bread and have been
offered stones.

If this test of the effect of religion upon one's inner
life is to be applied to one form of religion, it must also
be applied to all. If we are to use this test in forming
our judgment of orthodoxy, we must not shrink from
using it with equal and impartial strictness in forming
our judgment as to the value of that form of faith which
we call humanism. Does humanism feed the souls of
men? Does it foster that inner life which keeps them
calm in the face of danger, resolute in the face of temp-
tation, courageous in the face of defeat? Does it make
them more truly human, in the biggest sense of that
word?

Many of those who do not share our humanistic faith
are convinced that by this test humanism must in-
evitably fall. They are sometimes prepared to admit
that doctrinally we are nearer to the truth, and that we
have certain very great advantages in the freedom and
daring with which we can meet the unsolved riddles of
the mind ; but when it comes to living by our faith, they
shrink from the possibility of finding themselves naked
and destitute and hungry. We seem to them to have no
message for the souls of men, no bread with which to
feed the hunger of their hearts, no water of life for their
parched and aching lips.

If this is true, then humanism is indeed a futile and
impotent thing. If we accept the faith of humanism at

1 88 Humanist Sermons

the cost of all help in building up our inner resources,
then the price is altogether too great. But I cannot for a
single moment admit that this is true. Indeed, it is pre-
cisely because I believe that humanism can serve these
human needs far better than any other sort of faith that
I hold it myself and preach it from this pulpit.

It would take me a great deal more than the amount
of time at my disposal to set forth all my reasons for
this conviction, and so I shall limit myself to three,
which I shall speak of as three advantages which the
humanist has over the orthodox believer when it comes
to using his faith to build up his inner life.

The first advantage which the humanist possesses is
his opportunity for complete sincerity in his religious
life. "Religion," says Professor Whitehead in a recent
volume, "is force of belief cleansing the inward parts.
For this reason the primary religious virtue is sincerity,
a penetrating sincerity." The humanist has laid aside
once and for all the idea that religious truth has any
source other than his own human intelligence, and this
makes it possible for him to formulate his religious be-
liefs without the slightest equivocation or secret reserva-
tions. He may not believe very much, as measured by
orthodox standards, but what he does believe he be-
lieves with his whole mind. He has no dark corners into
which he is afraid to let the light of his mind penetrate,
no inherited convictions which he holds in fear and
trembling lest some day they may be shattered into
nothingness by fresh discoveries of truth, no founda-
tions which he dares not scrutinize lest he discover how
weak and tottering they are. He not only dares to be
utterly sincere in his religious thinking, he does not dare
to be otherwise, for he believes that without sincerity
there can be no inner life worth having.

I do not mean to imply that only the humanist is

Frederick M. Eliot 189

sincere in his religious thought and life. Far from it. I
have known altogether too many Catholics whose sin-
cerity has been as clear and as penetrating as sunlight to
make any such statement as that. But I also know a
great many people whose religion is shot through and
through with insincerity, who are afraid to face the
facts about their own beliefs lest they lose their faith al-
together; and I know that in their best moments they
are conscious of the insincerity. Such people are build-
ing their faith upon the sand. Until they muster up the
courage to put sincerity as the first of all religious vir-
tues, they cannot have a faith that will feed their inner
life. The immense advantage which the humanist has is
that he begins with the assumption that sincerity is the
one indispensable quality for a religion that is to serve
him in life.

The second advantage which the humanist has is the
effect of his faith upon the sanctities of life. It is large-
ly out of the things which a man regards as sacred that
his inner life grows, and if his faith is of the kind which
multiplies the sanctities of life he will find in it the
power to enrich and strengthen his inner resources. That
is precisely what a humanist's faith does for him.

Everything which is sacred in the eyes of an orthodox
believer is at least as sacred in the eyes of the humanist,
but the reasons why it is sacred are such as to break
down the restrictions which hedge about the idea of
sanctity for the orthodox believer. For the humanist, it
is not what sets a person or a place or an event apart
from the natural and normal that makes it sacred, but
what unites the person with all humanity, what links the
place with every other place, and what sets the event in
the long sequence of human history.

For example, we share the sense of sacredness which
surrounds the figure of the Madonna; but we do not

190 Humanist Sermons

attribute that sacredness to the uniqueness of her
motherhood but to the universal element which makes
all motherhood a sacred thing. For us there is no
monopoly of sanctity in the motherhood of Mary, but
rather the exemplification of a sanctity which is as wide
as the fact of motherhood itself.

Nor do we feel that the sacredness of Jesus lies in his
uniqueness. We yield to no one in our reverence for his
character and spiritual insight, but it is just because
those seem to us human rather than individual qualities
that we reverence them; and this widens the scope of
our reverence to include all men everywhere in whom
that same character and insight have been found. It is
not Christ alone whom we honor, but the Christ-life in
mankind. Thus, once again our humanism multiplies
our sanctities.

And similarly with places of sacred associations. The
Holy Land is no less holy for us than it is for any one,
but it is the human lives and human hopes which there
were developed that make it holy in our eyes, and we
cannot consent to limit our thought of holy ground to
any one country. Wherever human souls have sought
the light and struggled against the forces of evil, wher-
ever human hearts have discovered new truth and hu-
man lips bravely proclaimed it, we find our Holy Land.
We differ from orthodox Christians not because we
have fewer sacred places, but because we have far more.
We have discovered that it is possible to live in such a
way as to make

"Our common, daily life divine,
And every land a Palestine."

The third advantage which we have when we accept
a humanistic faith lies in the greater incentive which
that faith offers to personal effort. So long as men be-
lieve that their salvation depends upon the influence of

Frederick M. Eliot 191

some external power, they will inevitably tend to rely
upon that outside power instead of concentrating their
attention upon putting forth their own utmost en-
deavor. If, however, they believe as we do that the
responsibility for human progress rests upon human
shoulders, if they recognize that men must save them-
selves, then this faith will serve as a mighty stimulus to
the development of all the resources of mind and heart
which they can bring to bear upon the problems of hu-
man life.

We believe that the great and glorious things have all
come out of the struggle of human souls, and we believe
that the still greater and more glorious things of the
future will come in the same way. This gives a sig-
nificance to all struggle, even when we cannot at the
moment see exactly how it is going to produce anything
worth while ; and it provides a tremendous incentive for
courageous and patient effort.

When Longfellow was making his translation of
Dante's "Divine Comedy/' he wrote six sonnets in
which he described his own reaction to the marvellous
piece of literature with which, for so many weeks, he
lived in constant and intimate association. The last six
lines of the second of these sonnets are a striking de-
scription of the human experiences out of which the
poem arose.

"Ah ! from what agonies of heart and brain,
What exultations trampling on despair,
What tenderness, what tears, what hate of wrong,
What passionate outcry of a soul in pain,
Uprose this poem of the earth and air,
This mediaeval miracle of song !"

The humanist believes that this is an accurate ac-
count of the origin of all significant and beautiful
achievements. They do not come floating down from

192 Humanist Sermons

the skies, as the New Jerusalem is supposed to have
come in the vision of the seer of Patmos. They do not
come from above, but they rise up from below from
human struggle, human pain, human fidelity, human
aspiration. And once we see clearly that this is the way
they have arisen in the past, we shall cease to expect
them to come in any different fashion in the future.

From this conviction, the humanist draws his most
profound and moving inspiration. He believes that he
also may have some part even though it be a very
humble one in bringing to pass some new wonder of
human accomplishment. He believes that he may relate
his own individual struggle to the great onward sweep
of human progress, if he uses his brains and keeps faith
with his own ideals. And that thought serves him as the
greatest possible source of courage in moments of doubt
and despair. That thought builds up his inner life more
effectively than any dreams of external assistance or
divine intervention in the scheme of things.

Indeed, he goes a step further and dares to believe
that faith in God is itself a product of the same human
struggle, that the divine life itself is nurtured by human
faithfulness and human idealism.

"Out of the lives of heroes and their deeds,
Out of the miracle of human thought,
Out of the songs of singers God proceeds,
And of the soul of them his Soul is wrought."

These lines by an English poet, Harold Monro, express
the final interpretation of the humanist's faith. They
suggest also the immeasurable power of such a faith to
inspire human hearts and build up the inner life of hu-
man souls.

Such a faith has its great and decisive advantages,
but it also requires a stiffer sort of courage to hold and
live by than the faith which relies upon external help.

Frederick M. Eliot 193

Ours is no easy faith. It is not a crutch, to assist our
feeble and faltering steps along the highway of life, but
rather a stern command to stand up and walk, count-
ing upon our own strength, making our own way toward
the goal of our pilgrimage. If you are the kind of per-
son to whom such a command is nothing but a dis-
couragement, if you are disheartened when you find
that nobody is going to pick you up and carry you along,
then humanism is no faith for you. But if you are the
kind of person who responds to such a command by ris-
ing to your feet, no matter how slowly or painfully, and
bravely setting forth on the difficult road, then human-
ism will be a challenge and a constant inspiration to
your soul.

And there is one further thought which must not be
forgotten. For those who have the courage to accept
such a faith, there may be no hope of divine or external
assistance to take the place of their own initiative and
courage, but the moment they accept the challenge they
will discover that there is a new and wonderful kind of
help in the fellowship of the marching hosts. Each of us
must stand on his own feet, and make his own way on-
ward ; but we are not alone in that struggle. The road is
thronged with pilgrims, and we may cheer each other
with words and songs of hope, at every stage of the
journey. And at times there will come floating back to
us, from the far distant horizon ahead, the echoing
songs of those who have gone before us the pioneers in
whose footsteps we are marching, whose brave example
we are trying to follow, whose triumphant progress will
keep us steadfast to the end.

XIV
THE UNSHARED LIFE

JAMES H. HART

First Unitarian Society
Madison^ Wisconsin

Unshared Life

James H. Hart

N REMEMBER curious segments of their
experience. None can tell why he remembers what he
remembers or forgets the things forgotten. Nor can any
man escape by any means this weird destiny. Hence en-
sues perpetual wonderment. For since one's past is only
a part of what one has undergone, and since what is lost
to memory is contained in the organism, life appears as
a thing of shreds and patches, a bizarre collection of
unplurnbed events. But all this is beside the matter in
hand. It is merely the fruit of an idle speculation as to
why I recall something a man once told me about him-
self, although I have forgotten almost everything else
that Happened in the months we sojourned together.
One thing is left. It stands out against the years like the
red flares that warn of an abyss. The man himself, the
actor in the incident, was a tangled-up fragment of
flesh. You meet such men. They spend the early years
of life trying to mask themselves from scrutiny, and the
later years trying to tear away the mask developed.
This man learned quite easily the art of self conceal-
ment. When I met him, he was thirty years of age, had
a beautiful gift of saying exactly the opposite of what
he meant, and a sincere desire to lose the gift he had so

197

198 Humanist Sermons

assiduously cultivated. It was this desire, probably, that
led him to recount to me the incident that I propose to
retell to you.

It appears that as a boy he once wandered about the
country looking for work and was at last offered a job
by an engineering firm located in a town far distant
from his home. He would not have taken the job had he
not been stranded, he told me, for, if there was one
thing more than another that he hated, it was that of
tending machinery. The untiring exactness, the relent-
less thrust and return, the unhumanity of cog within
cog, alternately scared and enraged him. Yet the
stomach is after all a henchman of Destiny; and hence
he signed the ledger.

The next morning he woke early, hurried on his
clothes by the raw dawnlight and sped down the streets
to the shop. The gates were closed. Even this chance
was lost. Presently a clock in a nearby tower began to
strike the hour. He counted carefully. Four strokes
reverberated; the vibrations died away; silence de-
scended again. Having neither clock nor watch, he had
arrived two hours before opening time. It did not mat-
ter, he ruminated, he could wait; and the deep doorway
afforded some protection from the drizzle. Had he been
like other fellows he would have had a clock or have
judged the time more accurately. Had he been able to
pay a week in advance for his room and board, as was
customary, he could have asked for a call at the proper
hour. He wished he were as competent as others seemed
to be. Nothing ever seemed to daunt such men
healthy, confident creatures, making their way through
life with an assurance well-nigh incredible ....

While he waited, he tried to imagine what would
happen in the course of the day. The first part was
simple enough. You went inside and took your brass

James ff. plan 199

check off the board that hung by the door and dropped
it in a slot beneath the time-keeper's window. But that
done, the day loomed dim and difficult. The afternoon
before, he had followed the foreman down long aisles,
flanked with forests of machines, and had been assigned
to a minor piece boss. He shivered as he thought of that
march between the machines. It was a relief when he
stumbled through the doorway into the street again. . .
Suppose he had to sweep and clean among those whir-
ring things! Well, who cared? . . .Somehow the
world had begun to wear the same sort of face of late.
He had seen the ribs on which the sunbeams were
strung, and they had first dismayed and then toughened
him in a queer manner inside. ... At the end of the
broken week, he would have enough to pay his board
and room, and possibly enough to buy a clock. . . .
It must be getting close on time, he thought. The time-
keeper had unlocked the small door in the great gates,
and men were coming down the narrow lane. Gradually
a small crowd of workmen gathered by the doors, smok-
ing contentedly. Not time to go in yet, evidently. Then
the first whistle blew. The men knocked the fire out of
their pipes and sauntered in, and the place swallowed
him up.

The man, naturally, did not phrase the experience as
I have phrased it. It came from his lips in jerky sen-
tences with great gaps between them, and one had to fill
up the gaps for one's self. Yet the story, told in words,
was not important, but rather the impression conveyed
the impression of a tiny tide of life washing behind
and within and through the words and muscles and
movements. It was a surge of this life that my friend
had been trying to tell me about, a bit of experience
which was unique, unrepeatable, in which no one else
might really share and from which even the God in

200 Humanist Sermons

whom my friend believed was shut out. One felt that
this man, standing by one's side, was infinitely removed
from one in reality, living in his own dimension, as it
were, and distinct from everything and everybody else
in the world. Something seemed to stir in that immense
engineering shop with its roof cut like the teeth of a
saw, and its hundreds of men and machines something
unmeasurable, uncountable, pulsating within a secluded
world, something going its own solitary and unknown
way, and only to be dimly guessed at from the words
that were uttered and the interpretation one's own ex-
periences might fashion. It was as if one had come to a
place where rules were useless, and recording instru-
ments dumb, and where the utterest reality for each of
us is found.

II

I would not make too much of what I have called, for
want of a better word, The Unshared Life; and yet one
can hardly make too much of it at present. Memorable
men have sometimes left on record the objects that
most profoundly excited their amazement and rever-
ence. One could make a pretty catalog of these objects
and a pretty study out of the causes that provoked their
celebration. Was it not Plato who talked of the way the
educated man passed from one love to another till he
reached the love of God or of starlike and unchanging
ideals? It was all wrong anyway, whoever it was, at
least, so it appears to me. Should not one go just the
other way go from love to love till one halted before
the illimitable mystery of these Unshared Experiences ?
For here it is that one reaches, or tries to reach, the most
real and ineffable thing under heaven. One no sooner
commences a discipline of this sort than one is over-
whelmed by the thought of the maelstrom of life par-

James ff. JPIart 201

celled up inside the skin of a person with whom one may
be conversing in a perfectly calm and commonplace
manner. You wonder what your friend is really think-
ing about, whether life looks beautiful or ugly to him,
and why he goes hither and yon so busily. Occasionally,
it may be, you go out to the suburbs of a great city,
where the monotonous houses go mile on mile along
monotonous streets out to the prairie, as Sandburg says,
and marvel at the strange phenomena life presents un-
der the night. All those jerry built houses run up in one
of the wealthiest cities of the world and sold at immense
profits to helpless men in the name of Democracy and
Good Business, and each one of the houses full of souls
traveling solitary paths to the Great Void. Perhaps you
watch the students who crowd the classrooms at the uni-
versity, who burrow into books and turn themselves
into note-hounds ; and yet every one of these students
has his own orbit, his own ineffable adventure and un-
shareable destiny . . .

A man with a speculative turn of mind might link
up this vision of contemporary lives with a vision of
the procession of humankind through the ages of the
past, and so deepen the mood evoked. One thinks spon-
taneously of Carlyle's reaction to that spectacle. You
have not forgotten those flamboyant words of his in
which he describes the impression it made on him ! "Like
some wild-flaming, wild-thundering train of heaven's
artillery, does this mysterious mankind thunder and
flame, in long-drawn, quick-succeeding grandeur
through the unknown deep . . . Like a God-created,
fire-breathing Spirit host, we emerge from the Inane.
. . . Earth's mountains are levelled, and her seas
filled up in our passage. . . . But whence? Whither?
Sense knows not, faith knows not; only that it is
through mystery .to mystery, from God to God. ..."

202 Humanist Sermons

Yet one grows tired of that wild rhetoric, which, in try-
ing to exalt man, really stultifies him. All this talk of
our being Divine Essences going from God to God
sounds today like the dithyrambic ravings of someone
somewhat overstimulated or hysterical. Our so-called
Divine Essence does not go from God to God, so far as
we know, but from the womb to the grave, and it is just
this fact which moves us so profoundly when we allow
ourselves to dwell on it for a brief space. This wild-
flaming, fire-breathing host was nothing much to look
at after all. It was just a host of ordinary men and
women, living from day to day and from job to job,
and experiencing joys and sorrows, perplexities and
satisfactions, much as we do today. There is no need to
romanticize about these lives of ours in order to make
them profound and important to us. The reality out-
paces the rhetoric. There is enough of terror and beauty
and love in the meanest life that ever plodded its way
across earth to make us forever marvel ; and it is exactly
the fact that Carlyle despises, the fact that we are flesh
and blood creatures doomed swiftly to pass away, and
yet longing for recognition and significance while we
are here, that cries aloud for attention.

Ill

If we meditate on matters of this sort, we are led ere
long to deplore the neglect of The Unshared Life in the
calculations and activities of the race. We neglect it
most easily, perhaps in our religious calculations and
activities, or rather in those that pass as religious. A
classic example of this device is found in the famous
dialog between Krishna and Arjuna, the first a god and
the second a king of India. A feud has broken out with-
in the clans and families ruled by the Prince and blood-

James ff. flan 203

shed is imminent. Arjuna surveys the forces drawn up
in rival ranks and sees that tutors, sons and fathers,
grandsires and grandsons, uncles and nephews, cousins,
kindred and friends are about to fight each other, and
the sight produces in him a great despondency. He is
not one of those men whose minds are depraved by the
lust for power, and who sees no sin in the extirpation of
their race, no crime in the murder of their friends. Al-
though they wish to kill me, he cries, I do not wish to
fight them. He prefers that his enemies should slaughter
him where he stands, unarmed and unresisting. But
Krishna, the patron god of Arjuna, discourages that
mood. Krishna bids him see that he cannot kill the souls
of those who confront him. For the soul, declares the
God, is indivisible, inconsumable, incorruptible, and is
not to be dried away; it is eternal, universal, permanent,
immovable; it is invisible, inconceivable, unalterable,
and is not to be slain when this mortal frame is de-
stroyed.

We have had many variations on this theme in the
West, many samples of how this life of ours is menaced
by being deified. When one reads some men, one is
startled to discover that they conceive of the whole
round globe as nothing more than an immense colony
of souls, or a congeries of colonies within colonies of
souls, together with their shadows, and to find that the
private experience of the individual is made to carry the
key to the intricacies of the universe. All such renditions
of The Unshared Life distract attention from the brief
and unique reality it really is, they empty it of all things
that make it precious in our common eyes.

Observe, however, that while certain religious and
philosophic dogmas declare The Unshared Life to be
everything, other dogmas give the impression that it is
nothing. In an article written by one of the prominent

204 Human/ft Sermons

psychologists of the country one finds this statement:
"Just as we have given up the primitive ghost or demon
in mountain and stream and tree, and as an explanation
of insanity, just as we have given up the ghostlike es-
sence called caloricity in the phenomena of heat, and
as we are slowly sloughing off the idea of vital force in
biology, so we must give up the soul or mind or con-
sciousness, as distinct from a certain kind of behavior in
psychology. We have achieved the impersonal point of
view in the interpretation of stars and stones and trees
and bacteria and frogs and guinea-pigs. Our next step is
to achieve it for human behavior. The concept of be-
havior is for the psychologist what the concept of, say,
gravitation, is for the physicist, or was. Science en-
courages a belief in the unity of man with the rest of
nature, and the identification of all the forces in a single
principle." Many similar statements are appearing in
books and journals. If I understand their implications,
they reduce everything we have tried to explain by the
use of words like soul or mind to nothingness. Now I
have naught but admiration for the actual achieve-
ments of such men in the science they have chosen; I be-
lieve that a great deal of extremely valuable informa-
tion will be placed presently at our disposal through
their labors; but when they go farther and deny the
reality of the ineffable adventure in which each one of
us is engaged I have to disagree. I may be completely
wrong where I disagree, but I have to disagree nonethe-
less. So far as I can discover there are elements in the
experience of every person that are distinct from those
belonging to the experience of anybody else, elements
that cannot be reported on save by the person himself.
Each of us has his own bodily calendar, his own peculiar
reality, and his own private description of that reality
when he labors to set it forth to another.

Jame //. f/art 205

The worst blasphemy against The Unshared Life, I
think, is the neglect of It in the practical affairs of
everyday. These unique happenings are treated as in-
consequential items by the architects of our Shared Life.
Let me once again suggest the thing I have in mind
through the medium of an. event. A few weeks ago I
sat in an open-air theatre listening to some singing.
The stage was decked out to resemble the vestibule of
an European cathedral, a.ad occasionally worshippers
passed in or out or loitered about. In this vestibule a
man was singing, singing gloriously, singing of human
hopes and loves and griefs, of the pride of life and the
darkness of defeat. And as he sang there came a wisp
of chanting from within the church, the first low notes
of the answering voices of the institution. For a little
while the singer seemed to hold his own, but presently
it was plain that he must be subdued, and his lovely,
earthy song borne down T>f the gathering chanting in
the stalls. I thought how symbolic it was of the fate of
individuals in our civilisation. Men grow weary and
are sacrificed before the institutions we have reared.
Our gods, our wars, our industries, our usurers, our
educations thwart and blast the very life to which they
should administer. Many of these dark things flitted
through my mind as I listened to the faltering song.
The girders of our American culture were placed, it
appeared, with an eye to trade, to slaughter, to religion
and restriction, rather than with an eye to the frail
beauty of brief lives,

I cannot develop this theme. But you have only to
stand before a block of city apartments to get an inkling
of what I mean. You have only to ponder a moment to
realize that Our Unshared Life is not brought to
significance by the size of OUT cities, the dodging of auto-
mobiles, the rise and fall of stock markets, the unparal-

206 Humanist Sermons

leled clangor of our streets, the production of an ever-
increasing mountain of goods, the fifty-two warships we
maintain in Chinese waters, or a tomb like that of the
Unknown Soldier. And it is the release of this life that
is important, not the goods, the warships, the banks, the
harvests all such derive their importance from this
primary reality and are but sounding brass without it.
This is very trite, I know, but trite things of this kind
breed tragedies if overlooked. Seek ye first the Kingdom
of God, said Jesus that is it, I think, in ancient dress.
Tom Oakland, one of Willa Gather's characters,
found an old Indian Cliff-city, so the story goes, and
lived in it one whole summer. One would like to dupli-
cate his experience. . . . "I lay down in a solitary
rock that was like an island in the bottom of the valley,
and looked up. The grey sage-brush and the blue-grey
rock around me were already dyed in shadow, but high
above me the canyon walls were dyed flame-red with
the sunset, and the Cliff-city lay in a gold haze around
its dark cavern. In a few minutes it, too, was grey, and
only the rim-rock at the top held the red light. When
that was gone, I could still see the copper glow in the
trees along the top of the ledges. The arc of the sky over
the canyon was silvery blue, with its pale yellow moon,
and presently stars shivered into it, like crystals dropt
into perfectly clear water. I remember these things, be-
cause in a sense, that was the first night I was ever real-
ly on the Mesa at all the first night all of me was
there. What that night began lasted all summer. . . .
I can scarcely hope that life will give me another sum-
mer like that one. Every morning I wakened with the
feeling that I had found everything. . . . And at
night, I used to feel that I couldn't have borne another
hour of the sun's consuming light, that I was full to the
brim, and needed dark and sleep."

James Jpt. flan 207

It is ,an extreme experience, I know, but let it serve.
I am not suggesting that men and women should al-
ways be enjoying the exhilarations that Tom enjoyed
in the Indian Cliff-city, even though I believe there
could be no happier way, perhaps, in which to spend
one's life. But I am suggesting that Tom found one way
of real living, a way vastly different from these ways
thrust on us by practical men, and a way full of satis-
faction and loveliness. But how, one might ask, did the
slaughter of pigs in Chicagp tie up with that life on the
rim-rock? Was there any tie-up at all? That is how the
matter might be phrased in a coarse and brazen fashion.
How did the building of the Tribune Tower in Chicago
minister to the satisfactions, the personal dignity, of the
men who carried it up? The deepest, most difficult, most
urgent matter confronting our age is that of finding
ways whereby, despite the duties imposed on us by our
civilization if not through or in those very duties
we may create significant living, and circumvent the
current blasphemy the blind, futile, ignominious, pal-
try flounderings of millions of human beings from birth
to death; and do it in some manner as will comport with
our safety, our essential productive processes, our place
in the world at large, and the future generations.

IV

In days gone by, when the foundations of society
were moved by the thrusts of Macedon and Rome,
mystery religions arose to satisfy this need, and guilds
and private brotherhoods emerged. Severe penalties
were often laid on these associations by the rulers of the
day and yet, in spite of legislation and proscription, the
movement steadily advanced. The Orphic gospel, the
Queen Isis and the Lord Serapis, the Great Mother of

208 Humanist Sermons

Phrygia, the heroic Mithra, to mention no more, cap-
tured the adoration of millions. For these associations
helped men in an hour of extremity. They served his
longings for significance when many ancient modes had
gone down before the armies and policies of his con-
querors. "In the face of that world-wide and powerful
(Roman) system, the individual subject felt ever more
and more his loneliness and helplessness . . . iso-
lated man seemed in its presence reduced to the insig-
nificance of an insect, or a grain of sand." Yet when
men met in the temple of their patron deity, ate a com-
mon meal, bought a place in the brotherhood cemetery,
or passed through the streets arrayed in the colors of
their guild, the meanest member felt himself lifted for
a moment above the dim, hopeless obscurity of plebeian
life. Christianity served in the same manner. Each be-
liever was transformed into a principal in a drama of
cosmic proportions, and so was saved in a measure
through his affirmation of the mystery and importance
of his earthly life.

The summons is to happier wisdoms. Though we are
but incidents in planetary evolution, aimless spawn of
atomic change, may we not provide for the releasing of
The Unshared Life? Perhaps we grope even now to-
wards that goal. Yesterday, writes Henry Seidel Canby,
we would have articles signed Anon, but Anon has now
passed away. "It may often be vulgar, this glorification
of the capital I," he proceeds, "but it is not explained
by calling it vulgarity. What we are encountering to-
day is a panicky, an almost hysterical, attempt to escape
from the deadly anonymity of modern life, and the
prime cause is not the vanity of our writers, but the
craving I had almost said the terror of the general
man who feels his personality sinking lower and lower
into a whirl of indistinguishable atoms to be lost in a

James //. ffart 209

mass civilization/' Possibly the Eucharistic Congress
held in Chicago last summer demonstrated the same
terror and desire. And the continental wailing over the
death of The First World Sheik ! Were not the multi-
tudes lamenting the loss of one through whom they had
obtained the significance they craved for themselves?

Yes ! we want something finer than that. We desire
something more attractive than these lunch-hour re-
ligions, occultisms, empty sensationalisms, that flower
in our midst. They are but weeds growing in stony
places. Yet how shall our common want be gratified?
The occasion calls for the cooperation of all students
and lovers of men that business and every other thing
may be subjugated to the welfare of The Unshared
Life. We look for the establishment of that cooperative
endeavor. We wonder if the Unitarian church will lead
that daring venture. Some day, we trust, a new life shall
dance and sing beneath the ancient skies, and Earth's
children exult in mightier liberations, loftier joys. May
that trust be translated into projects for its actualiza-
tion. May we share in the enduring vision, the linked
endeavor, the ready sacrifice, by which alone such living
shall arise.

XV
HUMANISM AND THE GOD WITHIN

FRANK S.C. WICKS

All Souls' Unitarian Church
Indianapolis

Hinnanisin

ana tne LJOGL witJnm

Frank S. C. Wicks

LY THOUGHT may be fittingly introduced
by lines from Emerson: "That only which we have
within us can we see without us. If we meet no Gods it
it because we harbor none."

Ecclesiastical architects, finding their edifices weak,
in danger of collapsing from the weight of roof and
arches, place flying buttresses against the walls of their
churches. They resort to external supports.

So the church, finding itself weak, has turned to ex-
ternal supports instead of strengthening itself from
within.

Man, in his weakness, has looked for strength beyond
himself. He has conceived of a God who would buttress
his endangered life.

Beset by temptation, .struggling against adversity,
threatened by danger, suffering in body, mind or soul,
he has bent the knee in prayer expecting that from this
God strength and healing would come.

It must be admitted that the faith of men that there
is a God beyond themselves who cares for them has
helped many a man in times of weakness, just as a
crutch is sometimes necessary when strength of limb
fails.

213

214 Humanist Sermons

But how much better if the limb be so strengthened
that the crutch may be thrown away; how much better
if a man can find divine strength within himself rather
than expect it of a being above himself.

I am not denying that there is a God above, watch-
ing over us with tender solicitude, ready to give us
strength in our weakness, help in our trouble, though I
find the doubts gather when I see a suffering child,
cursed at birth with a loathsome disease, inherited from
the iniquity of another, or when I see a saint tortured
and dying by inches, or when I see the many pitfalls
that beset the human path.

I do not think my children would call me a loving
father if I let them suffer when I might relieve them; if
I punished them when someone else was naughty; if I
did nothing for them until they fell upon their knees
and prayed to me; if they had to beg me each morning
to be good and kind; and then, if they did not call me
by the right name, condemn them to eternal hell.

That is the way God has been presented; one who
needs to be praised and prayed to.

Am I taking your God from you? Well, if your hold
upon God is so weak that he may be taken away I am
quite willing.

After I have plunged you into a sea of doubt, you
may swim to land and thank God he has given you
strength and skill that enable you to swim.

What I am contending for is that you will never find
a God above you until you have found a God within
you ; only when you find love welling up in your hearts ;
only when you discover yourself to be a moral being
will you conceive of a moral being above you.

Only when you discover your own strength will you
find that the strength of the universe is pouring through
you.

Frank S. C. Wicks 215

We know now how the popular gods were made.
Their substance was human breath and as evanescent.

Men have projected into the heavens a glorified im-
age of themselves and called it God. Seeing him in their
own likeness they have turned complacently to their
mirrors and said, "He hath made us in his own image."
Jehovah of the early Jews was an omnipotent Jew; he
loved only Jews and hated their enemies; he brought
victory to their arms; he was ready to commit any crime
to enable them v to possess the land of another people.
What were the lives of Egyptian babies if by killing
them he could free his people?

As the Jews became better their god became better,
until the prophets conceived of a god who was as good
as they themselves, a lover of righteousness.

The Greek gods were only magnified Greeks. They
did all that a Greek would do if he had the power. On
the whole these gods were a bad lot, given to earthly
amours, jealous of each other, reflecting all human
vices. Zeus owed his throne to killing his father who
tried to kill him.

The orthodox Christian God was made in the same
way. Already his throne is tottering. The God who loves
only Christians, who has devised enduring tortures for
all who do not accept some dogmatic formula, is bound
to fall as men become better and more enlightened.

Where he lives he has been made over into the image
of the gentle and loving Jesus, not a maker of hells, but
a builder of eternal mansions.

These older gods have been destroyed by the line of
Prometheus, friend of man. The Promethean astron-
omers put an end to the gods of miracle; the men of
science put an end to gods outside of the universe; Dar-
win put an end to the god of Genesis ; Jesus put an end
to the god of hate.

216 Humanist Sermons

What I am trying to show is that the gods were first
framed in human minds and hearts before they took on
an independent existence beyond human life.

I would have you turn from the thought of an ex-
ternal god and look elsewhere. Put away your tele-
scope; stop peering into a microscope; take away that
stethoscope from the breast of nature. Would you find
God? Ask yourself, first, "What do I find divinest in
myself?"

Is it a love of truth^ of goodness, of beauty, a love of
these as they appear in lives about us? Certainly this
love is divine. It gives us strength ; it nerves us to every
task; it enforces our sense of duty; it welcomes sacri-
fice; it turns a brave face to every danger; it knits us to
our kind; it warms the heart with sympathy; it wel-
comes children into the world and cares for them with
untiring devotion. That is, it does all that a god can do.
Why not call this Love, God? It is not the infinite God
as yet, but since it recognizes no limit, it is on the way
toward infinitude.

To the question, "What is most divine within me?"
Jesus made answer, "Love." With Keats, it was Beau-
ty; with Shelley, Love of Mankind; with Herder, Rea-
son; with Goethe, Liberty; with Emerson, it was Duty.

Love, Beauty, Reason, Liberty, Duty, each is divine,
and they are one. They are like the prism, flashing all
the colors of the rainbow, yet but different refractions
of the one white.

Emerson says that "The fiend that man harries is
love of the best," and he thinks we must needs love the
best when we see it. What is this best that men love
when they see it? Is it enthroned in a heaven above?
No. It is regnant in the human heart.

You may return to your God above, if you will, but
you will go in the direction pointed out by your love of

Frank S. C. Wicks 217

the best. Your Polar Star, making safe your voyage, is
not in the sky but in your breast.

Christians have made no mistake when they turned
from the Jehovah of the Jews and worshipped Jesus as
God. I think the Deity of Jesus is the best of the Chris-
tian dogmas, but why stop with Jesus? Why not recog-
nize the divine in other men? Has Jesus been the only
lover; the only liver and teacher of righteousness; the
only one to lay down his life for humanity? What fear-
ful myopia ! Can you read the life of Francis of Assisi,
the finest flower of Catholicism, and not see another
Christ? Can you think of your mother and not say,
"Greater love had not Jesus?"

Whom do men really reverence and worship? No
God in the skies, no God of the printed page; no Jeho-
vah of Jewish revelation, but God-like men. They pay
homage to a Gautama, a Confucius, a William of
Orange, a Cromwell, a Washington, a Lincoln.

The instinct is a sound one. We must needs love the
best when we see it in best men.

When we do not find it in men we create it in myth.
We make a King Arthur, a Parsifal, a Galahad, and we
are not content with our heroes until we have enveloped
them in myth and legend as with Jesus, Washington,
Lincoln.

When a man discovers the divine within himself and
in human nature, the external gods fall from their
thrones. The only throne left them is in the Kingdom
proclaimed by Jesus, the Kingdom within.

A God regnant within the human heart is a God of
power, doing all God-like things.

Let the old gods go. They have served their purpose.
If you keep them at all, let them be as myths, breathing
only in the poet's breath.

They are like the grass of summer, flourishing for a

2i 8 Humanist Sermons

season only to wither at last; like the rose of dawn that
fades even as it blossoms, while the Great Reality, the
life that gave greenness to the grass and sweetness to
the rose, remains.

At last all the paths that man has taken to find God
converge and are one. This inner vision of ideal per-
fection becomes our God.

Is it only a vision, only a fancy, dying with our
breath? Has it no reality? If not, it is our work to make
it more real, creators we of a God who from everlast-
ing to everlasting is God.

Max Mueller tells of a parable he learned from the
lore of the East of how the gods, having stolen from
man his divinity, met to discuss where they should hide
it.

One suggested that it be carried to the ends of the
earth and buried, but it was pointed out that man was
a great wanderer and that he might find the lost treas-
ure.

Another proposed that it be dropped into the depths
of the sea, but the fear was expressed that man, with
his insatiable curiosity, might find it even there.

Finally, after much thought, the oldest and wisest
of the gods said, "Hide it in man himself, that is the last
place he will ever look for it." And so it was agreed.

Man did wander over the face of the earth, seeking
in all places his lost divinity before he thought to look
within himself. At last he found what he sought; found
it in his own bosom.

XVI
JUST BEING HUMAN

FRANK C. DOAN

Formerly

First Unitarian Congregational Society
Rochester, New York

Just

ing Jtluinan

Frank C. Doan

Though I speak with the tongues of men and of
angels; and though I bestow all my goods to
feed the poor ; and though I give my body to be
burned; but have not love, I am nothing. . .
Love never faileth.

)OME YEARS AGO, at the time when the late
Thomas Mott Osborne was trying out his daring experi-
ments in prison-reform and getting his astonishing re-
sults, a certain New York editor went up to Sing Sing
to see with his own eyes what things were toward there.
His mind was frankly skeptical, not to say supercilious,
in its attitude toward this whole business of prison-re-
form. He looked upon it as merely a passing fad. This at
its best; and, at its worst, as an experiment very risky to
try in the then state of human society. As to Osborne,
the editor felt that this soft-hearted man was giving
these hardened criminals a degree of freedom which
might easily grow to be a menace to society at large.

In a word, this sophisticated editor went up to Sing
Sing that day to scoff, but he remained to learn. And he
returned to New York a convert to prison-reform and

221

222 Humanist Sermons

an ardent defendant of the Osborne methods. The story
of his change of heart and mind, as nearly as I can now
remember it in his own words, read like this :

CC I went up to Sing Sing just to find out what was
going on within its forbidding walls. I found out 71 dis-
covered one thing that caused me to pause in open-
mouthed wonder. The prison-atmosphere I had felt on a
former visit was not there any more. Before Osborne' s
advent I had seen the convicts moving about silently
and sullenly, making me think of caged animals, some
with hopeless expressions on their faces, others already
meditating in their hearts some terrible vengeance
against society at large. I now beheld human beings
moving about, or working at their benches, cheerful
and outspoken, the light of a great hope on their faces
and in their hearts an evident love of the man who was
revealing to them the way of freedom and of joy in
living.

"I set about to discover, if I could, by what reforms,
by what methods Osborne had accomplished this trans-
formation of the old prison-atmosphere, this seemingly
miraculous softening of the convict-heart. I found no
explanation no rationale. He had, of course, intro-
duced some much-needed reforms and in certain practi-
cal matters was methodic enough; but other wardens
in other prisons, both before and since him, had done
the same. Why do these others not get the same results ?
With the thought of finding out the answer to this very
pertinent question, I went out into the prison-yard to
inquire of the convicts themselves the secret of this
man's grip upon their souls. Alas, they seemed to feel
that I myself was impertinent in asking such a question !
I interviewed convict after convict only to be met with
a shrug of the shoulders, as much as to say, 'Why, we
couldn't explain Osborne, not in a hundred years to

Frank C. Doan 223

the likes of you ! He has no secret. The thing has been
done; that is all/ And so I was about to leave, properly
chastened by these convicts but without getting the in-
formation I had come up the river to find. Finally, as a
last resort, I stepped up to one of the men, the most
case-hardened of them all, by his looks evidently a
'sub-normal' but in whose eyes I thought I saw the
light of a secret understanding. And I said to him, Tell
me, what in the world has this man Osborne done to
you fellows anyway? He seems to have no method, no
system, no secret even. And yet he has contrived to
transform darkness into light before you. Is he a magi-
cian, a miracle-working god, or what then? 5 Well, after
a moment's hesitation the old man turned to me, I was
surprised to see tears streaming down his wizened
cheeks, and said brokenly, 'Why, Osborne, he hasn't
any secret. He isn't any wizard, any god, or anything of
that kind. He's just human^ that's all !'

"Verily, the foolish shall confound the wise ! It re-
mained for me, the lettered and skeptical editor, to
learn from the halting words of this old moron the secret
of Osborne's power over these outcasts from human so-
ciety, and to teach me faith in the man himself. He was
just human, that was all."

II

Just being human ! In this simple but soul-searching
phrase by which that old man explained, the best way
he knew how, Osborne's greatness lies the secret of all
human greatness. It consists in just being human in
one's way of living this human life of ours.

After all is said and done, after all the philosophy
books have been read, after all the lectures and sermons
about life have been taken in and digested, that is what

224 Humanist Sermons

we all are, is it not, just human beings together? Per-
plexed, all of us, by the same human problems. All of us
alike seeking for some light upon the path of this human
life, light and strength and wisdom and things like
that. Divided against each other by the same human
passions, greeds, envyings, animosities and things like
that.

Yes, but uplifted, all of us in our better moments,
by the same human hopes, aspirations, dreams. Gener-
ous, all of us, at times almost to a fault. Affectionate,
all of us, ready to die for those we love, ready to bestow
all our goods to feed the poor, ready to give our bodies,
if need be, to be burned, a willing sacrifice in any great
cause of justice.

In short, ready, all of us, and quick to respond to any
and every appeal to our better impulses.

Now, this is human nature. A curious mixture of good
and evil, if you will ; a seeming contradiction of motives
and passions. On its one side, how like a beast, marred
by all manner of ugly passions, dragged down again
and again by all sorts of criminal propensities ! But, on
its other side, how like a god, filled to overflowing,
brimful of a spirit of justice, love, good will toward all
men!

This is human nature !

Osborne, they say, had a u way" with criminals. Yes,
he did ; and what was true of Osborne in his way with
these outcasts is likewise true, in the last analysis, of
every one of us in all our human relations. To live, as he
did, a complete life, free and happy, prosperous and use-
ful, in every real sense of the terms prosperity and utili-
ty, all in the world any man need do is to go ahead and
live, as he did, live like a human being, following after
these nobler, these diviner passions, which are as surely
in us all.

Frank C. Doan 225

III

A word or two of concrete experience will serve bet-
ter than many hours of abstract discourse to make clear
this simple philosophy of "just being human." 1

Some years ago I was campaigning here and there
in the interest of a certain Child Labor Bill. 2 One night
I found myself addressing a rather smug congregation
in a large city church; which is to say, they were well-
meaning enough but spiritually blind. I was trying the
best I could to get them to see the proposed bill just
simply from the human point of view. By way of ex-
ample, I told them how in the sulphur-match industry
an average of two children every day died from the
poisonous sulphur fumes which were a necessary acces-
sory to this deadly business. They sat there, I must say
in all fairness, politely enough and mildly interested.
But, as I could see from their faces, they were quite un-
moved by the recital of this iniquity. They were listen-
ing, but not like human beings ! Nothing I could think
to say touched home with them. . . . Now, in the
course of the evening, I kept noticing two little chil-
dren sitting all alone in the front pew, beautifully
dressed, lovely to behold, as unspoiled children always
are. At last I turned to that audience of listless listeners
it sounds theatrical, but I ask you to remember that
I was desperate and I said to them, "What would
you good people think of me, and what would you do
to me, if I should suddenly leap from this chancel, seize

1 These several incidents happen, all of them, to have fallen^ within
the author's own field of experience. This fact at once explains and
apologizes for the personal references in what follows.

2 This bill was later enacted into law, only to be declared unconsti-
tutional by, if my memory serves me, a four to five vote of the Supreme
Court.

226 Humanist Sermons

these two little children and beat their brains out against
this altar back here? . . . I know what you would do
to me. You would take me out of this church and string
me up to the nearest lamp-post; or, more mercifully
but none the less horrified, you would hurry me off to
the nearest mad-house. This man is insane,' you would
cry. 'Criminally insane/ And yet that in effect is what
the sulphur-match is doing to little children every work-
ing day of the year !" Need I say that those well-mean-
ing people parents most of them no longer sat there
spiritually blind? The words had struck in! And they
went away to their several homes, very silent and very
thoughtful! 3

Now, that is just being human.

A similar experience. Some years later when mak-
ing an investigation of the cranberry bog situation in
New Jersey, I was told of one owner who with entire
sincerity, be it said defended his business on the
ground that berry-picking in the bogs was really a fine
vacation for these children who came from the slums
of Philadelphia. This same man was very thoughtful
and silent when asked, "How would you like to have
your own child take such a vacation and become one of
the bedraggled, bleeding, asthmatic, eczematic, rickety
children of the bogs?"

That again is just being human.

Another time I was sitting with a Dutch friend
on a park bench in The Hague. An almost unbroken
procession of women of the street was passing us by.
My friend again, be it said, with entire sincerity
was defending the Dutch system of licensing its public
women; there is no hope anyway of abolishing this
"most ancient of all human professions/' he said, and
the best we can do is to control it this way in the interest

8 The sulphur-match industry has now been abolished.

Frank C. Doan 227

of the public health; and so on ... I did not argue
these points with my friend. I knew it would be no
good. But I also knew he had a sister just coming of
age and who was the apple of his eye. So I said to him
finally, "All right, my friend. If this is so necessary
and excellent a practice, why don't you go down to the
place of registration and take out a license for your
sister to serve the lusts of men and to promote the
health of this great city?" He was very angry with me
at first. But he was honest enough to see the point.
And he, too, was very silent and thoughtful as we
walked away together out of the sight of that ugly
market-place.

That is just being human.

One morning a man came forward at the close of
our church service and asked for the privilege of sign-
ing our church book. This man had been coming there
regularly for several months. Often we had greeted
each other in the vestibule, passed the time of day,
talked about the weather, and all that. I knew him in
all these different ways. But all the time I had kept
wondering what was on this man's mind, what secret
was imprisoned in his heart. For I could see that some-
thing was troubling him . . . Well, after he had signed
the church book, he turned to me we were alone there
and quietly said, "You are my minister now, and
I think I ought to tell you that I am a murderer." Now,
what could I say to that man? What could I say then
and there, I mean. I did follow up his story and
learned that it was all true. He had done a murder,
and was at that time living under an assumed name
in a hut he had built with his own hands in a forest
across the river from New York, in New Jersey. All
I could say, all that it was given me to say to him, all
I could think to do was just to be human about it. And

228 Humanist Sermons

so I turned to him and said, "Well, my brother, there
is not one of us but has had murder in his heart. The
only difference between you and the rest of us is that
we have never done the deed. Did not a greater than
any of us say one day, 'He that so much as is angry
with his brother is a murderer in his heart" ?"
That is just being human.

IV

We are all human beings together. Who are we, even
the best of us, that we should stand judging even the
worst of us? We may not steal. We may not commit
adultery. We may not do a murder. We may never
have committed a single one of these many sins of the
flesh. But who among us is not guilty of sins of the
spirit sins a thousand times more devastating to the
soul of a man than these sins of the flesh, bad as they
are? Sins of intolerance, of self-righteousness, of evil-
speaking, of an irritable temper, of a melancholy mind,
of self-pity pitying ourselves for these very weak-
nesses of the spirit, and excusing ourselves when we
ought in all conscience to face these weaknesses like a
man, like the human being we all are at heart, and cast
them out of our lives into outer darkness forever !

There is one sin of the spirit a man should be more
afraid of committing than any other, more afraid of it
because it is so plausible in its aspect and so insidious
in its approach to the human soul. It is to sin against
the holy spirit of humanity. Self -righteousness, whose
other name is Hypocrisy! Thanking high heaven that
one is better than other men; that one lives better than
other men; that one can think better than other men;
that one is holier than other men. Self -righteousness !
Hypocrisy! O, how the Galilean despised this sin

Frank C. Doan 229

against the holy spirit of man ! how he condemned it in
words the most terrible and the most merciless that
have ever fallen from human lips !

This, then, is the test the humanist's test shall I
say? of all real greatness of spirit in man. How it
does level down, how it does level up all men into a
real equality, a genuine democracy of all souls! By
this test no man is any better at last than any other
man, or any worse either. We are all human beings
together !

Is there a criminal-brother anywhere in this whole
wide world, seeming as if a willing victim to all the
lowering instincts and passions of his all-too-physical
body? How like a beast! So we are apt to say yes;
but, we are apt to forget that it is not his fault not
altogether. Some one, sometime, somewhere, has failed
to treat that man like a human being. Some one has
despitefully used him, kicked him when he was down.
Sometime an injustice has crushed and taken the heart
out of him. Somewhere along his way of life, the cup
of cold water has been snatched away from his panting
spirit. Some one has failed to lay a helping, healing
hand upon him when his soul was sick, nigh unto
death, within him. Some disease, it may be, inherited
from his guilty father; some disease, it may be, caught
from this present-day decadent body-politic; it is this
that has unfitted him for a completer, nobler life. It
is he who has been robbed; cheated out of his rightful
heritage from his own earthly father, or from "human-
ity," the mother-matrix in which we are all equally
conceived and bred and born. Some one, somewhere,
sometime has treated that man like the scum of the

230 Humanist Sermons

earth ! Find that some one ! Perhaps it was I, perhaps
it was you? For, these things even the best of us, well-
meaning but spiritually blind, do do, albeit uncon-
sciously and with no idea what we do and with no
intention of harming any human souL Find that some
one, I say, and you will find the guilty party the man
who once failed to treat another man like a human
being !

How dark this shield, you say! Yes, dark enough.
But there is a brighter, converse side to it. If you and I
are responsible, at least partly, for whatsoever is ugly
and evil in this "common humanity" of ours, we are
not the less creditable for whatsoever is lovely and of
good report. Is there a man in this whole wide world
who is noble in all his ways, lofty in all his thoughts,
generous, tolerant and understanding in his heart, liv-
ing how like a god? Ah, yes there are thousands and
thousands of this human kind in this up-looking, on-
ward progressing generation! Unheralded, mute, in-
glorious, they are still the salt of the earth, the leaven
which is slowly raising this whole lump of humanity,
a light to lighten this darkened age, to lead the peoples
of the earth through the present wilderness of appear-
ances into the realities of their own soul.

Now, why have these rare souls become as the salt,
the leaven, the hope of the world? It is not to their
credit, not altogether. Take any such soul. Search long
enough and understandingly enough, and you will find
some one perhaps it was you, perhaps it was I who,
somewhere, sometime, once treated that man like a
human being ! Believing all sorts of fine things about
him, expecting all sorts of noble actions from him, hop-
ing all manner of god-like things of him. Perhaps it
was a father he fairly worshiped in the days of his
youth. Perhaps it was some understanding teacher, the

Frank C. Doan 231

memory of whom has been with him through the years,
and whose now "invisible presence" is still his stay.
Perhaps at one time he caught, never to lose, the spirit
of one of the truly human souls of the past Socrates,
Buddha, Jesus, Saint Francis, Tolstoi. Perhaps the
present discomforted soul of humanity has itself
touched his heart with its need of his strength, his wis-
dom, his love even his. Who can say? But we can
say with great assurance that some one, somewhere,
sometime, has treated that man like a human being,
like a child of the Most High. And, treated like a child
of the Most High, he has become a child of the Most
High!

VI '

Is any one looking for a philosophy of life, one which
always "works," one which will bring him contentment
of spirit, peace of mind, joy of heart? The secret is
here. Just be human in your way of taking human na-
ture your own and that of your fellowmen. Human,
I mean, in this high degree in which all great souls have
been and are : human in your condemnation of all in-
justice, all self-righteousness, all hypocrisy, whether in
others or in yourself; gently human in your understand-
ing of the weaknesses, the follies, the sins of our com-
mon human nature, by the alchemy of your own human
spirit transmuting this common clay into pure gold;
and patient while about it, steadfastly patient with all
men with others as well as with yourself, forgiving
them all their debts, forgetting all human faults
theirs as well as your own, seeing through all their and
your own evil deeds, underneath all the surface scum
of this human life to the good which is surely present
in every human soul ! This is what I love to call the
Eternal Presence a purifying Presence which, though

232 Humanist Sermons

often concealed by impurities, is none the less deep-
hidden within this common humanity of ours. Do this,
just being human about it, but constant in your sense of
this Presence within you of the Most High, and you
will find your own soul, your own unconquerable, im-
perishable soul. You will discover the unconquerable,
imperishable soul of your f ellowmen. Yea, you will feel
within you, as a very Presence, the unconquerable, im-
perishable soul of the Eternal that Presence which no
metaphysics has yet succeeded in revealing, no system-
atic philosophy ever yet made clear, no skepticism ever
yet contrived to conceal from the sight of understand-
ing souls.

VII

Asked the other day to what "school" of philosophy
I adhered, and not wishing to seem to evade the ques-
tion, I replied plainly, "Being a humanist, I am there-
fore not of any 'school.'" 4 When pressed for a fuller
answer and still wanting to avoid the very appearance
of evasion, I replied, "I am a humanist, as it happens,
not of the British and American order but of the 'Con-
tinental' spirit; the spirit of a Lessing, a Herder, a
Kant (he of the 'Kritique of the Practical Reason'),
a Fichte, a Feuerbach."

Asked another day what was my religion; or, to put
it more exactly, what was the least religion I could get
along with, and again not wishing to seem evasive, I
replied, "My religion is made up of many 'over-beliefs.'
These beliefs I dare say you, my skeptical friend, do
not share, if indeed you do not flatly reject them as

*The moment humanism becomes a "school" of philosophy, it ceases
to be humanism and becomes no better than a game of wits or what,
if anything, is worse, a "system" of thought.

Frank C. Doan 233

'unproved. 3 I do accept them because they 'work 3 for
me in my way of life. I feel free to do this, because
there is nothing, thus far, in what you call 'exact knowl-
edge' and 'experimental data" to disprove them. Should
these 'over-beliefs 3 ever come into contradiction to well-
established 'facts/ I would, of course, reject them all.
One would have to live without them. It would be a
very colorless life, but I suppose one would go on living
somehow. But there is one over-belief which by its very
nature cannot possibly come into conflict with the 'brute
facts 3 of life. And this one happens to be the most
precious of them all. It is belief in human nature? Call
this an #t?r-belief, if you will. Only remember that if
the world is torn asunder, gashed and bleeding with
hatreds as it is this day, the reason for its sorry estate
is that men and nations have z^d^r-believed in each
other an under-belief amounting to positive dis-
belief. Witness class-consciousness, racial antagonisms,
world- war and all the other antipodal differences which
divide mankind today, as it were, into two hemispheres
of thought and feeling. It all comes from this under-
belief in human nature. "Never the twain shall meet 33 ?
From this humanist point of view, the very question
is a kind of infidelity a lack of faith in human na-
ture. An over-belief, a fanatic and irrational faith, if
you will, in human nature that alone can get over
the equator that separates them and bring the two

"Perhaps after Kant we may call it a "postulate"; something it is
imperative that a man shall believe in order to live at all. One does
not forget that in his "Practical Reason" Kant brought in through the
back door certain doctrines which his "Pure Reason" had already kicked
out the front. But one may still accept in principle the "postulate" ^and
use it in his life; the principle, namely, that there are certain things
a man must believe in order to live at all practically. These he^may
postulate. The place to plant these postulates, we may add, is in
the region of the Unknown where no rationalist can enter in to sow
his seeds of dissension and no skeptic to sow his tares.

234 Humanist Sermons

together. 6 For myself, I could, were it necessary, give up
every over-belief and still contrive to live a happy, if
not a complete life every one except this over-belief
in human nature. To expect all things, to go on hoping
all things of this promising humanity of which we are
all equally a part, to labor for it all one's years, spend-
ing every bit of one's human energy and every moment
of one's time to the last drop, to the last hour : this, I
submit, is an over-belief that can never be confuted,
and ought never to be even so much as discouraged.
This over-belief is the hope of the world today, the sub-
stance of things human, though as yet unseen.

This is human nature. This is religion. To feel an
Eternal Spirit in this human nature of ours brooding
as of old in the hearts of men; seeking through us to
throw some light upon this now darkened way of life ;
through us to bring healing to this broken and bleeding
generation; through us to bring joy into this saddened
humanity. This is religion, pure and undefiled.

VIII

And when all the brooding is over; when the Eternal
Spirit has come into its own; when this commonwealth
of light and justice and love has come to pass on this
old earth, we shall find that the citizens of that new
earth are still human beings, very like the rest of us
here, as we are in our fairer, our truer, our diviner mo-
ments. Though we may by then have long since died
in the body and departed this earth, we shall still enter
in spirit into that society of all souls. And we shall
know in our hearts, and be glad then in the knowledge
that our fidelity while yet here; our over-belief, as it

"Mankind will then discover that an equator is a purely "imaginary
line" !

Frank C. Doan 235

may now seem, in human nature; our fidelity to the
Most High which is even now working in and through
our common humanity; this our fidelity here, we shall
then gladly know, did hasten in advance of and did
prepare the way for the coming of the Eternal Spirit
into its own in the souls of all men on this earth.

XVII

HUMANISM RELIGION IN THE
MAKING

ARTHUR L. WEATHERLY

First Unitarian Society
Iowa City, Iowa

Ho
umanism

igion in the Makin

Arthur L, Weatherly

..ELIGION is personal. It is the soul's strug-
gle to unite itself with the infinite ; an effort to get into
right relations with reality. It is not a cult imposed by
tradition, but the product of man's attempt to achieve
the realization of his possibilities as a spiritual being.
Herein is the fundamental condition of religious unity.

We find a common faith, an illuminating fellow-
ship, in our diversity of faiths. The idealism of the pres-
ent demands the recognition of the inviolability of in-
dividual religion. In the respect for one another's faith,
the deeper and broader faith will be established in the
hearts of men. But in this atmosphere of freedom,
which in a large measure is here and now, men find a
certain consensus of opinion, a real harmony of thought,
a fundamental agreement in ideals of conduct. This
unity of thought and action will not be imposed from
without, but will be the spontaneous outgrowth of the
relation of the free minds to the facts of modern life
as revealed by scientists and interpreted by philosophers.

It will be a unity that is organic; that is, it will be
constantly changing form and content. It will be a
growth. Not being held in crystallized form by any
external authority, it will be responsive to the develop-

239

240 Humanist Sermons

ing thought of men. Instead of repressing and deaden-
ing spiritual life, as all unity the result of external
authority does, it will be a constant source of mental,
moral and spiritual inspiration. This unity, the unity
of free souls, will be the basis of what men may well
call a new religion.

We now stand in a position where we can see the
new religion taking, form. We are at a vantage point of
history. The period begun with the Renaissance has
ended. We are at the beginning of a new era, the era
of the application of the principle of freedom to the
life of mankind. We now recognize that the results of
modern science, whose first apostle was Roger Bacon,
belong to all the children of men. We now claim the
right of every man to be his own philosopher, the inter-
preter to himself of the facts dug from the earth, found
in the ancient records or discovered in the laboratory.
Man now claims the right to use these to establish for
himself the basis of his own faith. The men who hold
the key to the future no longer depend on the book or
the priest, but look to the innermost recesses of their
own souls, for the light that will illumine the pathway
of life. But all having free access to the same facts, all
moved by the same vital impulse, all finding the as-
surances for their own faith in the faith of others will
enter into a common life of devotion to truth and
service.

The ancient religions were characterized by a zeal
for external uniformity. The new will be characterized
by a spiritual unity resulting from the innate tendency
of the race to live together, in harmony. External
authority breeds schism. Internal authority develops
sympathy and cooperation.

This spiritual unity is destined to bind the race to-
gether in a holy and divine fellowship which no man

Arthur L. Weather ly 241

can break asunder. It is the basis of the civilization of
the future. So great has been the zeal for uniformity
that men have sought for it at any and all cost. They
were willing to wither the soul or kill the body in order
to accomplish it. In their ignorance they did not see
that to compel love is to breed hate. No act was too
cruel, no method too vicious if it only produced the
end desired, uniformity.

They did not know, what we now know, that the
highest uniformity is the outgrowth of the greatest di-
versity; that only as the souls of men are free can they
walk together in brotherly unity. They did not under-
stand the omnipotence of the eternal law of love which
ever and ever through all the ages tends to bring all
sons of men into one common family.

We now know how deeply the law of unity is writ
in the very constitution of the universe. We now can
see how the greatest spiritual achievement of the human
soul is to respond to the appeal of this law.

Science has shown us how the gentle, kindly, loving
races will so surely as the law of gravitation operates
to hold the planets in their courses inherit the earth.
The scholars of the world by patient researches are find-
ing the foundations of a moral order in the heart of
nature. Supernaturalism has had its day. It is in the
natural order that men find the basis for their new
faith. The facts, the inescapable, unanswerable facts
that meet us on every hand, whether we look to the
past or to the modern world with its vast complicated
system of commerce and industry, compel men to rec-
ognize the triumph of sympathy over brute force, the
efficiency of freedom as contrasted with slavery either
of mind or body, and the supremacy of love over hate.
In attaining freedom, men find the unity that endures
forever and a day.

242 Humanin Sermons

This unity in freedom lies at the basis of the new
religion that is in the making, the religion of the future
that will give us a new faith and lay the foundation
for a deeper and clearer interpretation of life. It will
be the condition of an ever-growing spiritual conscious-
ness and an ever greater attainment of spiritual power.

The age to be, the age beginning, is one not for the
establishment of a new cult, not for the securing of
new truth to bind the minds and souls of men, but one
which will open the door of opportunity for all men
to enter upon an unending advance from truth to truth,
from spiritual achievement to spiritual achievement.

Freedom of mind and conscience is the condition and
the fundamental element of the new religion. No longer
can it be looked upon as a negation of authority, or a
mere expression of lack of faith. It is, on the contrary,
the very life of the new religion that is to inspire men
to a larger thought of self and the race. The free souls
will, because they are free, attain for the future new
and larger conceptions of man and his destiny. Men
will see that without freedom idealism will be destroyed
and the dry rot of formalism will prevail. But with
freedom the souls of men will blossom and bear fruit
as naturally as does the flower that blooms.

Unity through freedom is the very heart of the re-
ligion that is in the making. Its possibilities and ideals
are now beginning to grip the hearts of men even more
tenaciously than the ideals of any ancient religion. The
prophets of this new faith it will have no priests
will be all the people. They, in their collective activity,
in the free play of mind on mind, in mutual respect
and sympathy, will create a new temple, which will be
all the activities of men, in which the race will work and
worship. The shop and factory, school and home, the
amusement hall and playground, will be dedicated to

Arthur L. Weather ly 243

the service of the higher and spiritual life of mankind;
instead of being the business of a few, religion will be
the life of alL Instead of belonging to church, it will
belong to our common human experience.

In this free air all men will come to feel what now a
few feel, that life at its highest and best, the aspiring
life, life seeking to get into right relations with reality,
is dominated by certain great ideals. To lift up these
ideals so that all men may see them, to interpret these
so that all men may understand them, to relate them to
life so that men may know that they are a part of the
warp and woof of the universe, is to have a part in the
creation of the spiritual environment the ethical con-
science of the future. This is, in fact, to create a new
religion founded on freedom and containing within it
the conditions of the fundamental unity of the race.
This is the challenge presented to us in our time. This
is the divine adventure on which you may enter in this
day and age. No buccaneer who sailed the Spanish
Main in days of old ever faced a prospect more allur-
ing, an opportunity so big with possibilities, so mighty
in its consequences.

We can almost hear the blare of celestial trumpets
and the thunderous salute of heavenly artillery as we
see men respond to the call of the ages. This is the time
of mighty possibilities, possibilities which are open to
the many, instead of the few, to shape and mould the
destiny of babes unborn and generations on generations
yet to come. The responsibility of kings now rests on
the common man, the average man. Those who today
see the vision, who have slain the dragons of super-
stition, can joyously enter upon the adventure of the
soul, can have a part in this great creative process.
Those who are selfishly indifferent, who are absorbed
in petty vanities and ambitions of the flesh, are doomed

244 Humanist Sermons

forever to lose the chance now offered freely unto them.
Now is the time and this is the hour for those who can
serve to volunteer. They must have the faith that over-
comes all things, and the courage that surmounts every
obstacle.

First, freedom must be affirmed and reaffirmed. It
will cost something to make this affirmation and more
to loyally maintain it. Men new to freedom are like
men long confined in a dungeon. When they come out
into the bright light of the sun, they will be blinded
and confused. They will act as drunken men. To be
patient with these and generous, will indeed try the
souls of the most brave. Disorder, riots and tumults
will seem to be, as they now seem to be, the direct off-
spring of freedom. Men will be tempted to withhold
freedom, because they fail to see that the evils are not
a result of freedom, but of the lack of it. But those
who have the vision will know and understand. They
will comprehend that freedom, the law of divine prog-
ress, will not destroy itself any more than tornadoes
will overthrow the law of gravitation. Even amid the
cruel cries of the mob and the wild shouting of the
demagogues, they will hold and hold firm to the funda-
mental ideal of freedom.

But to hold this ideal is not enough. The ideal with-
out action is meaningless and void. Men must not only
see the ideal of freedom, but also know how to use it.
This means action. It is only through action that ideals
have meaning and reality. Action must be based on the
great facts of life, one of which is the social nature of
man. Men do not attain their highest development
alone. We must ascend from plane to plane together.
So long as one soul is not free, the freedom of all is
thereby limited. The new religion is social in that it
insists that the higher life of one depends on the higher

Arthur L. Weather ly 245

life of all. The task set before those who seek to make
the new idealism appeal with power to the minds of
men is one which includes the making clear that we
must lift the whole race to higher levels in order that
any may ascend to the mountain heights of spiritual
achievement. This ideal, once seen and felt, will make
men realize that the slum, the cruel poverty, that debase
and dishearten; the soul-destroying and body-killing
child labor; all the conditions that rob man of a free
opportunity for realizing the largest possible develop-
ment, are a weight on the spiritual progress of mankind.

The second task for those who seek to embody the
new religion in the social conscience of mankind, is to
proclaim and interpret the ideal of action until men
spontaneously and inevitably respond to its call. They
then will seek in town, city and state, in shop and mill
in all the relations of life to create those conditions
which will give to all the most complete opportunity for
fulfilling the possibilities of their lives.

The third great task is the interpretation of the law
of sympathy. We are beginning as a race to dimly com-
prehend its significance. A few already have grasped
the meaning of the great storehouse of facts which
patient search in every field of life has brought forth.
These know that the law of sympathy is as immutable
in the social life of man as the law of conservation of
energy is in the material world. We live and move and
grow as a race, as well as individuals, as we obey the
law of sympathy. The measure of the divine in us is
the extent of our love. Insofar as we shut out from our
hearts any human soul or any human interest, we shut
ourselves off from the divine life. Of old, sympathy was
thought of as a by-product of religion. In the new re-
ligion, it will be fundamental. Once we were religious
in proportion to belief. The religion that is in the mak-

246 Humanist Sermons

ing affirms that we are religious in proportion as we
love. It is this that binds us together in families, in
associations, in friendships, in cities and nations. It is
love which when obeyed creates states and social order.
It is the mainspring of progress and the heart of civil-
ization. This has been made plain unto us by modern
science. Its truth is attested in every field of human
experience.

Already the feeling of sympathy has become so ef-
fective a spur to action that Plenty cannot rest at ease
in the presence of Need. No normal man can eat with
contentment of a superabundance of food if by his side
stands a starved waif. The social conscience of man-
kind, with irresistible force, prompts him to give food
to the hungry one. His sympathy will not rest until he
acts. The new religion will come with the development
of sympathy so that it responds, not only to the need
at hand but to every known need in all the world, even
unto the possibility of need, so that men will be im-
pelled by this development of their sympathy to pre-
vent even the occurrence of need. If any can be thought
of as being cast into outer darkness, it will be the un-
sympathetic man. But no one will be cast out. It is
the task of the new religion to reveal to all the sig-
nificance and power of the law of sympathy.

The last of the fundamental tasks set before the
creators of the new religion is the interpretation of the
larger meaning of responsibility. With the widening
thought of man comes a vision of life reaching on and
on into the never-ending ages to come. In the present
lies the future.

You and I and that one yonder

Nothing are, and nought shall be,

But upon our aching shoulders
Shall be built eternity.

Arthur L. Weatherly 247

"So in sunshine and in sorrow,

So in glory and in pain,
Shall we tend our little earth's plots,
Working to a vast refrain.

'Tor the unborn generations,

For the baby feet that come,
We shall rear a world to greet them,
We shall beautify their home.'*

Once we placed all responsibility for the future in
the hands of the unseen powers. Once we made God
responsible for the future. Then we shared the respon-
sibility with God. Now we can see that we are the hands
and feet of God. We are the creators of the future. A
new sense of responsibility is coming to us which is
lifting the race to higher and higher levels. To fill the
minds of men with this new sense of duty, to make
them realize that its authority is written in the constitu-
tion of the universe and that no man can escape or
evade it, is the task of this day and hour.

It is for us to create the traditions, the ideals, the
social conscience into which our children's children will
be born. This is the ideal which will be more potent
than any law in giving us social purity, in causing men
to refrain from excesses and in impelling them to estab-
lish the environment which will of itself be the spiritual
opportunity of the generations to come.

We recognize it as our absolute responsibility, to
create for our own children the best possible oppor-
tunity for them to develop their highest and best life.
We seek to protect them from cruel wrong and debasing
poverty. The man who does not feel this responsibility
is abnormal or insane. The new and larger sense of
responsibility, when wrought into the social conscience
of the race, will compel men to make every effort to
create the best possible opportunity for all the children

248 Humanist Sermon;

of men. So long as any are deprived of their birthright
of opportunity, it is the task of the new religion to
make all men feel responsible for the welfare, not only
of those of their own family but for the welfare of all
the children of men.

These ideals of freedom, unity, action, sympathy and
responsibility are here and now slowly but inevitably
growing in power. Resting upon science and the expe-
rience of the race, they can withstand every criticism,
whether high or low. When they become potent in the
lives of the many, they will, by the cosmic energy in-
herent in them, sweep the race along to higher and
higher levels, to mounts of vision of which we today
scarcely dream, to spiritual achievements that are be-
yond our view. And this does not mean that men will
abandon or spurn the past. We will not forget the great
teachers that have illumined "the way" in all ages.
Insofar as their teachings are in harmony with the great
facts wrought out on the anvil of human experience,
these will be carried on as sources of light and inspira-
tion into the future. All who to the truth have been
true, all who have dared and suffered in the long up-
ward climb of mankind, will be canonized as saints by
a grateful race. Confucius and Buddha, Socrates and
Plato, Jesus and St. Paul, Isaiah and Amos, as well as
a host of modem men and women, will be recognized
as among those who, entering upon the divine adven-
ture, helped to smooth the way for the generations to
come. And will mankind forget that there is an un-
named and unknown host?

"Thousands who, weary and nameless, the straight,
hard pathway trod," helped in the onward and up-
ward progress of mankind. These will all inspire the
men of the present. They will be the leaders of all ages.

For us is not only the task of seeing that we are living

Arthur L. Weather ly 249

in a wondrous age, that the sublime process of a religion
in the making is here and now. The challenge, the di-
vine challenge, to us is to lend a hand in this movement
which is so great, so tremendous in its significance that
it can only be measured in terms of the infinite. Not to
respond to it, if we see it, is spiritual suicide. To re-
spond to it is to find ourselves in the grip of infinite
forces, in the swing of eternal movements, and this is
to live, to live unto the uttermost.

XVIII

THE HUMANIST RELIGIOUS IDEAL

A. EUSTACE HAYDON

Department of Comparative Religion
The University of Chicago

The Humanist Religious

A . Eustace flay don

N THESE days of the religious sciences, if one
is to interpret religions at all he must do it in terms of
our human, planetary quest. To gather the history of
religions of the planet into a single sentence, one might
say that it has been all, all the long JLabor of it, the
effort of human groups to wring from their environing,
iptural world a satisfying life. lit lias been th un-
conquerable thrust of the spirit of man for realization,
for the good and complete life. There are some who
delight to picture that brave battle of the ages as dark
tragedy. It has been rather an epic.

In our solar system, with its thousands of millions
of miles of span, our little planet is almost lost in
solitude; yet astronomers tell us that the solar system
is merely a point of light in the vast deeps of the stars ;
that in those illimitable spaces are stars so far away
that light from them reaches us only after thousands
of years. And beyond our universe are others, universe
beyond universe, until the mind reels, staggering into
those unimaginable paths of eternity. Yet here on this
tiny, little lost world, forgotten by the timeless stars,
man has been bravely battling for life, trying by co-
operative effort to build a home, a satisfying, beautiful

254 Humanist Sermons

home for the Children of Earth, striving, in spite of
crushing defeats, to entrench his values in a none too
friendly world.

The religions of the world tell the story and they
tell almost the same story in outline. They show how
man's ideal of the good life slowly enlarged from the
effort to realize satisfaction of merely physical desires
to aspiration for higher spiritual qualities. Man came
to value friendship, joy, beauty, love and loyalty more
than mere material things. They show that man's crude
early efforts to understand environing powers rose by
stages until high philosophical concepts of ultimate
reality emerged. They show how man's naive technique
of control, by magical forms and ceremonies, gave way
to better understanding and at last to science, a nobler
method of mastery in the service of the spiritual ideal.
Through all the religions of the world we trace the
story. Defeat dogged the footsteps of every human
group down all the weary way. Man did not have the
knowledge or the tools necessary to master the planet.
He did not know how to control nature. He did not
understand human nature. He had no means to harness
material things to the spiritual ideal. In some religions
men turned from the actual world to find reality be-
hind it; in some, the ideal was projected into the divine
guarantor who was trusted to provide it beyond this
troubled life. Even though broken and beaten man
clung to his dream. The glory of the human is that the
spirit of man refused to be ultimately defeated; each
new generation of the human family, heir to the end-
less struggle, snatched up the standard to set it farther
in the face of chaos and the uncertain future. Under-
neath all, always, was the basic thing the need of
living. The shaping force of religions was this desire
of human beings to live anct to live in the fullest way.

A. Eustace flay don 255

The fundamentals of religions are not in ideas, nor in
ceremonies or institutions or forms. The true funda-
mentals are those human relationships in which men
find joy or despair, happiness or sorrow, defeat or the
thrill of victory, the expression of mind and will, the
joy of creative work or bondage, the sense of futility
or the honor of service well done. The urge for satis-
fying human relationships is the shaping and control-
ling factor in the development of religions. This de-
ihand for full and joyous living breaks old shackles
of idea or custom and broadens religion out into new
exfoliations of thought and ideal.

Today, in all the religions of the world, old bonds
are being broken under the pressure of the forces of the
modern world. Men everywhere see the history and
future of humanity in a new light. The history of reli-
gions reveals to modern thinkers the drama of the past.
The history of morals, of law, of institutions shows
that each of these is rooted in the service of human
living. Even human nature itself is seen to be what it
is because of man's effort to adjust himself to the nat-
ural and social environment. Human nature is intimate-
ly related to the unfolding and transformation of the
planet itself. More important, for the modern world,
men see that new scientific insight and power have
created instruments of civilization which have broken
down all the old separations of the planet, broken the
barriers which kept peoples apart in safe aloofness and
so bound the whole world together that the problems
of every little state in remote hinterlands are the prob-
lems of all mankind. It is a new world. The religions
of the peoples must needs feel the pulse of the new life.

Since the world now has a common science, common
problems, the realization has dawned that the religious
ideal must be one. If we are to find, in the modern world,

256 Humanist Sermons

the way of life which will yield joy and beauty and
creative power; if the age-old quest of historic religions
is to find embodiment today it must be an effort to
realize the good life as a united humanity. It must in-
volve not one group, nor one race, nor one nation but
gather into its service the cooperative energies of the
whole human family. The separated paths of religions
are united and oriented to a common goal. Hence the
modern Buddhist liberal preaches the religion of hu-
manity. The evangelist of Islam proclaims the gospel
of peace, of internationalism, of the brotherhood of
man. The leaders of China guide the forces of their
renaissance toward humanism. The modern Christian
liberals refuse any longer to be bound by dogmas, to
be harnessed and shackled by the traditional ideology
and rite and forecast the future of religion in terms
of human values, social, economic, political and inter-
national. The fundamental religious problem of the
world is the subjection of all resources, intellectual and
material, to the service of the spiritual ideal. The re-
ligions of mankind have come by devious ways down
the centuries. Through the ages they have hardly known
each other. Today they meet in the unity of a narrowed
world, in the light of modern knowledge, to work to-
gether in the solving of problems common to all, to
seek by cooperative effort the actualization of the com-
mon ideal.

In the approach to that task they have many assets
denied to the prophets of religion in the past. The tools
of science, the enlarged vision of science and the scien-
tific attitude and method make a vast difference in pro-
gram and in thought. It is possible now to think of the
solidarity of mankind. It is possible to see all ideas and
institutions of the past as relative to life situations now
outgrown and to take an attitude of appreciation to-

A. Eustace Hay don 257

ward them while deliberately refusing any longer to
be bound by them. It is possible to expect assent to the
demand that human life today shall be allowed to
formulate its own world view in the light of modern
knowledge, to project an ideal of religion for this age
and to embody the ideal in vital forms suitable to the
enlarged aspiration and needs of the new world. This
emancipation from eternal truth and sacrosanct in-
stitution is a great gain for the creative religious life.

Another element which enters into the actual back-
ground of the modern religious ideal is the experience
of the western world with the creations of science. We
have seen science become a Frankenstein monstef. We
have seen the creative power of science get so com-
pletely out of human control as to menace the citadel
of civilization. We have seen machines threaten to
destroy the very spiritual values man has achieved in
his long toil of the ages. Scientists, lacking the religious
interest, may sell their knowledge for the creation of
specially privileged groups to the destruction of the
chance for life of millions. Science, applied to material
things in the form of machines is able to drive restricted
groups or races to the exploitation of all the less ad-
vanced peoples of the world. The earth has rocked in
convulsion because of an era of machine-economic mad-
ness ending war. Some gloomy seers, in the mood of
Augustine as the Barbarians poured over the old civil-
ization of the Mediterranean, are fearful of the capacity
of human spiritual power to harness the new forces,
fearful lest man may forever continue to sink under
the ruins of his laboriously built cultures. Even the
sanest of men recognize the menace of scientific power.
Robert Morss Lovett has said : "The modern scientist
has control of forces capable of destroying the whole
structure of civilization within a very short time and

258 Humanist Sermons

there is no philosopher, no statesman, no prophet of
religion wise enough to persuade him not to do it.**
Jhe problem of religion then is clear. Science must be
Humanized As a united humanity we must formulate
our religious ideal in terms of a reorganization of the
social structure of the world so that all scientific knowl-
edge and the resulting economic power shall be bound to
the service of the shared life of the race.

This new religious hope carries in the heart of it the
old quest of the ages. As our fathers sought the satis-
fying life thousands of years ago so we still seek, but
the vista of vision is wider and the problems more ap-
palling. We seek the elimination of evil not an explana-
tion of it. We can no longer sit idly by, lulled by the
anaesthetic of faith, while the evils of a maladjusted
social order overwhelm millions of our fellows, while
those who come smiling into life with high hopes go
down defeated and crushed to futile death. The modern
religious ideal must guarantee to the children of men
a free opportunity for full life, the values of personal-
ity, the satisfaction of being creative factors in a worth-
while world, the thrill of responsibility of sharing in
a real way in the making of a progressively better cul-
ture, the joy not only of sharing the values of the past,
the hopes of the present but also of creating, in thought
and act, elements to enrich the future heritage of man.
A united humanity, served by scientific knowledge,
master of material things, organized about an ideal of
a shared life which will make possible the opportunity
for satisfying living to every individual soul this is
the religious goal to which the old religions of the
world are moving.

But it is not enough simply to hope. It is not enough
to see the ideal. Even to give complete allegiance to
it may be futile. It is quite useless to build a philosophy

A. Eustace Hay don 259

of religion or a philosophy of life if/we cannot put that
ideal into human customs and habits and institutions.
TSeautiful dreams may easily be built. The really "sig-
nificant thing for religion is the creation of a society in
which life will be lured to take on beautiful forms.
Religion then will undertake the task of transforming
the social structure in the interest of the vision. It must
begin with analysis to discover what are actually the
controls of human behavior. The problem is to put into
the place of the present custom and habit the way of
action which will embody the cooperative ideal, to find
a method of establishing the attitudes which will make
loyalty to the common good^a natural thing; to make
of education a method of producing creative, thinking
individuals eager to share and to serve; to make of
government a means of facilitating the realization of
the opportunity for life for all; to make of the eco-
nomic structure a method of subjecting to the service
of the higher life all material resources and all scientific
instruments. It is a supreme challenge to social psy-
chology. All men recognize the failure of the ancient
religious technique ; all are equally anxious to overcome
the evils of the modern era. There is a growing con-
sensus as to the ideal and the method ; but no one knows
enough to chart the ways of the future. We have at
least realized, however, that nothing is won unless the
social order is so organized as to build the attitudes
which will channel action in the line of the flying
spiritual goal, realizing concrete values in the coopera-
tive solution of proBlite^a^they^a^ be-
coBSB Idealism in action under the guidance of intelli-
gence, using the tools of science.

Since religion has become by necessity the quest of
a satisfying life for all races in a shared world, it seems
reasonable to think that the religious ideal will include

260 Humanist Sermons

an organization of humanity about the ideal that we
shall have a mind, a heart, a conscience for the world.
In the effort to deal with the problems which are larger
than those of any nation or people we have been forced
to international organizations of many kinds. The
threat of war has been foremost among the influences
urging to world organization. When we have come to a
realization of our common interests and have seen that
the ideals of religion are now the same for all mankind ;
when we see that the task is to master nature and human
nature so as to make of the earth a happy home for
man's transient life, to direct human affairs so as to
make possible a satisfying life for all, it does not seem
too wild a dream to think that we may create a soul for
the world. It would involve a mind for the world the
creation of a body of the best scientists, men expert in
the special sciences, who would train upon the prob-
lems of mankind the highest knowledge of the age and
project solutions in the light of all available facts. The
world has blundered through the centuries from tragedy
to tragedy. It is time now to put purpose into the future
history of humanity, to move into the coming age, step
by step, at least in the full use of all the wisdom avail-
able to man. Such a world organization would also have
a providential care over the unfortunate sufferers from
the unmastered forces of nature. The heart of the world
could be embodied in organizations to care for such
victims of nature to direct education in the backward
sections of the earth, to distribute the values of medical,
sanitary and industrial science wherever there was op-
portunity or need. Around the new religious ideal we
might set up a conscience for the world a body of the
acknowledged noblest sages of the peoples, chosen not
to dictate, nor to legislate, but simply to say, in regard
to problematical situations involving the peoples

A. Eustace Hay don 261

"This we think, in the light of the worthiest traditions
of the past and in the light of the present need and ideal,
is right." It would be difficult to escape the consensus
of such a conscience; it might serve to orient the public
opinion of mankind. Though it seems now like a fanci-
ful dream, the concentration of the best knowledge of
the earth, the best wisdom of the race, upon the prob-
lems which must be solved in common if they are to be
solved adequately at all, seems only to be practical
sanity.

On the background of the history of religions the
modern religious ideal claims loyalty. The quest of the
good life today is seen to involve the harnessing of all
resources to the service of spiritual values. There does
not seem to be any reason why the remediable evils
should mar the lives of men, least of all war or the pos-
sibility of war. There seems to be no reason why we
should condemn millions of the sons of men to hope-
lessness and despair, to poverty and vice and crime
when we know that these things are the produdt of
social conditions which may be remedied. Some social
philosophers have said that 95 per cent of all the evils
men suffer are the result of faulty social organization.
The religious ideal seems to challenge to the creation
of a free cooperating democracy of splendid individuals,
who, sharing the common heritage will at the same
time accept responsibility and find joy in serving and
beautifying the common life. Too long we have been
blundering, groping in the shadows. We can no longer
neglect the use of the knowledge we possess. The vision
became insistent. No longer may be comfort ourselves
by saying that it has always been so, that man is not
equal to the task, that human nature is weak and in-
stinct with selfishness. The first maxim of social science
denies it. Today religion has come to full conscious-

262 Humanist Sermons

ness of its planetary task. Today over all the world,
religious leaders are rallying the peoples to try once
more to realize the ancient ideal of a brotherhood of
man on earth, to build, before the fall of the final doom,
a glorious era of spiritual culture shared by all men.

It may be a daring dream. World-weary philosophers
of the ancient religions gave up the hope ; world-deny-
ing saints sought the ideal in another world; sage theo-
logians put their trust in God and despaired of the
powers of man; practical men, laughing at the religious
vision, deliberately mould the world to their will. The
time has come to actualize the religious ideal by the
united energies of mankind directed by creative intelli-
gence. Never before in the history of the religions did
men see the task so clearly. Never before in human
history did they have in their hands the scientific tools
they now possess. Never before did they have the eyes
of science to see and analyze the problems as they can
now do. Never before was it possible to control material
resources as it is now possible. Never before was it pos-
sible to gather human energies about a task as it is
now possible to organize it. Never before in the history
of the world did the outstanding leaders of the great
religions see the religious task and ideal through the
same eyes and in the same terms as they do today. It
may be that the future may realize the dream and lure
that glorious music out of life which has eluded and
escaped the toiling children of men through the long
centuries of the past. Religious men will at least enlist
for one more effort to make spiritual values dominant
in human civilization, to embody in world organization
the religion of humanity.

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